


When Plans Go Awry

by Aerilon452



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe in a BIG WAY, Angst, Crazy idea, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Jaime and Brienne are partners, Reshuffling of facts, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerilon452/pseuds/Aerilon452
Summary: It's modern day Westeros and Brienne is racing down the King's Road when she stops at a tavern and finds a curious man behind the bar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this fic started out as a dream I had about Brienne being a biker and Tormund was a bartender! LOL! It wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down and now it's taken on a life of it's own. I've changed up a lot of MAJOR things, you'll see what I mean. But GoT is over, so, I can do what I like and not worry too much! LOL! Enjoy!
> 
> (Formerly called Ice and Fire. That title just wasn't working for me.)

‘Being up North blows,’ Brienne thought to herself as her motorcycles thundered down the King’s Highway. She would have to stop soon to get something to eat before too long; she’d been riding since dawn. Plus, she would have to stop and let the solar cells on her bike recharge. Rounding the next bend in the road she saw a roadside bar. Horses and bikes parked outside. Coasting into a space at the end, she killed the engine and pulled off her helmet. On the back was the sigil of her father’s house, melded with the symbol for her mother, and the mark of the King’s Guard. The badge she wore displayed on her belt was the same. Brienne – with helmet in hand – got up to head towards the door. 

Tormund Giantsbane – Gaines for the Southern fools – stood behind the bar, idly drying a beer stein. He had a fair crowd for the lunchtime hour, but he paid them no mind. Down in the cellar, he had a family of Free Folk he had to smuggle to the Reach. There they would start new lives as farmers under the protection of Lady Olena Tyrell. When he had met her, he had seen her for the cunning old bird that she was. Golden Rose be damned. She wasn’t helping out of the goodness of her heart. She got more workers, which meant more crops could be planted and more money could be made from selling them.

The door opened, creaking loudly in the sudden silence, drawing Tormund’s attention. A tall, blonde woman walked in, clad in black leather. Every cell in his body froze at the sight of her. He watched her unzip her jacket and the light flashed on a badge. She was King’s Guard. A cop. What were the chances that she was here for him, though? Not high, if he was a judge by her demeanor. She was calm, looking for a place to sit, and she was alone. The only thing she had by way of a weapon was a dagger strapped to her right thigh. 

Brienne casually looked around the tavern, noting all the people huddled at their tables, plates of food in front of them, as well as tankards of ale. She walked towards the bar, taking a seat in the middle while she listened to a news report from Dorn. There was some drama happening between Prince Oberyn Martell and his brother, Doran. She smiled. Having been to Dorn on a case, she could attest that the brothers were on opposites sides of most political debates while still being united for the people. That place was a powder keg waiting for a lit match. She was going to be damn sure she wasn’t there when everything exploded.

Tormund shook himself out of his dazed state. He set the dried mug down and then moved down the line until he was standing before her. The usual lines flitted through his head but not a single one fell from his lips. He couldn’t help but stare at her while she was distracted. She was stunning, the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the chance to lay eyes on. Her hair was a pale gold; cut short to her jaw, and half tied back. After long seconds of staring at her, he finally made his tongue work. “What can I get you?” he asked. 

Brienne turned her head and was immediately confronted by the ginger bartender. What caught her attention was not his wild hair or his scruffy five o’clock shadow, but the blue of his eyes captivated her. They were intense and direct. While she held a bizarre little staring contest with him, she pulled the badge off of her belt and set it on the bar top. “What can I get for that?”

Tormund broke their locked gaze and glanced at her badge; a sun behind a three headed dragon, surrounded by two crescents and two roses. He answered, “A cup of coffee… and a sandwich.”

“Fantastic,” Brienne responded with a smirk and then put her badge back where it belonged. He walked away from her and she found herself craning her neck to check him out. He wore scuffed boots, a pair of faded brown leather pants that cupped his ass in just the right way. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as wicked images ran rampant in her mind. The t-shirt he wore sported the name of the tavern on the back with two mugs clinking. She hadn’t realized the name was Whispering Woods. It was just a pit stop to her. Now, she was glad she didn’t push on.

Tormund came back with her coffee and sandwich, setting both down in front of her. Then he asked, “So, what’s a King’s Guard doing this far North?” He tried to keep his voice as casual as he could. Be interested, but not too interested. She didn’t answer him, though. Rather, she took a big bite of the sandwich, chewing it slowly in front of him. He actually laughed. Okay, he would play along, and wait for her to answer. Taking a clean glass in hand, he poured himself a stout ale. 

Brienne didn’t realize just how starved she was until the food was in front of her. That first big bite was like tasting nirvana. She wanted to savor the taste of the red meat, the sauce, and the cheese smooshed together between two thick slices of wheat bread. Was she moaning in hungry delight? From the look on the barkeeps face – yeah, she was. It didn’t matter, though; she was starving. After swallowing, she picked up the coffee cup, and took a generous drink. “I was working a case, but it’s sort of been put on hold for a while,” she answered vaguely and then took another bite. 

Tormund could guess what she was working on. There had been rumblings of rebellion here and throughout the North. People were not happy with the way King Robert Baratheon was running the country. He had no room to complain. The more people were distracted by what the King was doing, they weren’t paying attention to him saving as many of his people as he could. The dead were on the move and his people were quickly becoming extinct. He couldn’t let that happen, not when he had the means to save them. 

Brienne licked her fingers, getting whatever last particles of food there were attached to her skin. “Oh, gods… that was good,” she moaned in sated delight. If she thought she could manage it, she would’ve asked for another one. 

Tormund smiled. “Since I’ve fed you, pretty lady, might I know your name?” he asked, leaning his forearms on the bar, putting himself close to her. 

Brienne pushed her plate aside and leaned close to him as well. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I do,” Tormund answered honestly. 

Thinking for a moment, pursing her lips and arching her left eyebrow, Brienne decides to answer. “I’m Brie,” she says. She doesn’t add that she’s from Tarth, or that she’s a Targaryen. Oddly enough, she wanted him to like her. Though, she probably shouldn’t have shown him her badge. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Brie,” Tormund replied. He could tell she wasn’t giving him her whole name, so he returned the favor. “I’m Tor.” It was strangely liberating talking with her. There was this simmering chemistry between them that had them being playful with each other. 

“I like that,” Brienne said with a smirk. She took another drink of her coffee while she kept her eyes locked with his. There was a fire lingering in his blue eyes that had muscles in her lower abdomen tightening. He was exactly her type and that made her feel the first pangs of desire race through her. Realistically, she could see herself killing an hour or two with him.

Tormund was attracted to her and felt the blood rushing to that certain part of his anatomy that demanded he try to seduce her into a quickie. She looked like she would be into that. The mischief in her blue eyes taunted him, luring him closer, daring him to take a chance. “If I asked you, would you go out that side door with me?” he asked. 

“I think you just did,” Brienne pointed out with a sly smirk. She got up and headed towards the side door to show him the answer to his question. Her hand had just touched the weathered latch when she felt his body behind her, the heat of him bleeding into her back. She saw her hand trembling as she lifted the worn metal and pushed open the door. 

Tormund followed her out, and once the door was closed, he seized her about the waist, pulling her back against him. Pinning her against the wall, Tormund wasted no time in kissing her mouth, his tongue sweeping passed her lips to dance with her tongue. She moaned, grinding her pelvis against him, making his harder than he had been before walking outside. His hands dropped down and squeezed her leather clad backside, holding her close to him.

Brienne moaned into his mouth. Gods, he was an amazing kisser. She clung to him, desperate to get to the good stuff. Pushing him away with a feral grin that told him she wasn’t through, she stripped out of her jacket, and draped it over the barrel. He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her back against him, their lips meeting.

Tormund slipped his right hand under the hem of her red t-shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin. Traveling up, he cupped her breast, feeling he press of her nipple against his palm. She was like living fire, burning him with her desire. He hadn’t been with a woman in a while and he was glad that she was the one his libido had chosen.

“I give you a two-hours of down time and this is what you do with it?”

Through the fog of rising lust, Brienne recognized the voice. She pulled back from her conquest and found Jaime staring at her. He had his arm bandaged and in a sling. “Yeah,” she answered, not bothering to take Tor’s hand from under her shirt. “It hasn’t been two hours,” she also pointed out. 

“No, it hasn’t,” Jaime agreed, coming towards her. This was not the first side ally romp his partner had been engaged in, but the man she had chosen was certainly a strange one. He didn’t look like the typical Westerosi bartender. A little too wild around the edges. 

“This your husband?” Tormund asked with her still pressed in tight against him.

Brienne snorted and scoffed, “Gods no!” Then she laughed at Jaime’s face. He looked positively annoyed with her. Then, to Tor, she said, “Sorry, lover, I’m going to have to leave you all hot and bothered.” 

Tormund growled low in his throat and said, “If you must, then I’ll be waiting for you to return.” 

Brienne slipped her hand down and lightly grabbed him through the leather of his pants. What she felt was impressive. “Count on it. I want to get me some of this,” she said giving him another squeeze and he growled for her. Then, looking back at Jaime, she mock pouted, “Couldn’t you give me like ten minutes?”

“NO!” Jaime shouted. As it was, he was already in trouble. They – well he – was supposed to be back at Casterly Rock already. “We have to go.”

“Damnit,” Brienne groaned, stepping back, causing his hand to fall from under her shirt.

Before she could leave, Tormund hauled her back against him, kissing her passionately, giving her a taste of what they could have had had they not been interrupted. After she was breathless, he whispered to her, “Come back and I’ll finish this, and I can go all night long.” 

Brienne bit her bottom lip, moaning. The offer was truly enticing, and she would look for any way she could to come back and take him up on it. “Don’t go falling for some red head while I’m gone.” 

“Never,” Tormund responded when she backed away to retrieve her coat. “I like my women blonde.” She walked off laughing. It was a sound he would remember for the rest of his life. He felt like a hit and run victim, but gods, he would let her hit him again and again. 

 

CASTERLY ROCK:

 

Jaime was never so glad as he was to be home at this moment. He and Brienne killed the engines of their motorcycles once inside the gates of his ancestral home, Casterly Rock. Soldiers moved about, tending to their duties as given to them by their commander, Lord Tywin Lannister. He put the kickstand down, and then swung his leg over, so she had both feet firmly planted on the paving stones. Jaime pulled off his helmet and immediately said, “I can’t believe you were going to let that horny bartender into your pants.” 

Brienne scoffed as soon as her helmet came off. “I was horny too, you jack ass,” she snapped, but it was playful. No matter what, she could never be truly angry at her partner. They were the two most hated of the King’s Guard. Try as she might, she couldn’t alienate him even if she tried. They didn’t call Jaime Lannister ‘King Slayer’ for nothing. He killed her uncle, Aerys Targaryen. 

“You could do better, that’s all I’m saying,” Jaime pointed out as they walked together towards the inner keep where the Lannister family of lions lived. Tywin, Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion. 

“Not if you felt what he was packing in his pants,” Brienne responded in a cheeky manner. 

“No, thank you,” Jaime said, gagging. 

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot, you like…” Brienne started to say, but his uninjured hand closed over her mouth stopping her from saying her next words. 

“Don’t breathe one word of that,” Jaime warned. Quickly, he exclaimed, “Ew!!” He dragged his hand away from her mouth shaking it, feeling a line of saliva across his palm. “That was childish,” he accused, glaring at her. Jaime wiped his hand on the front of his shirt.

“Putting your hand over my mouth was childish. I did warn you if you ever did that again, I would lick you and not feel bad about it,” Brienne stated. The first time he’d done that to her, they were in a tight spot, having to hide from people who were looking to kill any blond they could find; Lannister or Targaryen. Brienne had been hurt and Jaime had to cover her mouth to keep her from giving away their position. 

“It was the only way to shut you up,” Jaime countered.

“Well, not the only way,” Brienne insinuated with a devil may care smile. 

“Dear brother, you finally grace us with your presence.” 

Jaime and Brienne stopped fooling around when the frigid voice of Queen Cersei Lannister Baratheon reached them. 

“Your Grace,” Brienne said in a neutral, respectful tone. She inclined her head as she spoke, opting not to go into a full bow. 

“Sweet sister,” Jaime responded, honey dripping from both words. 

Brienne couldn’t help her eye roll. She always hated how Jaime’s demeanor always changed around his sister. It made her wish she would get violently ill. “Oh, please…” she mumbled as she picked up her haver sack. 

“Something you want to say, Brienne?” Jaime asked, and his tone clearly told her to keep her opinions to herself. 

Brienne wasn’t going to listen, like always. “Yeah, I’m going to go and drop my bag in your room so you can greet your sister privately.” Before he could rage at her, she was off, taking the curved flight of steps two at a time. At the top, she turned down the right corridor and set off towards the end. The door waiting for her led to Jaime’s chambers. Once, this room would have meant more to her, but now, it was just where her partner slept when he was home. She dropped her bag and went to the window, pushing open the glass. The ocean breeze filled the spacious stone room and reminded her a little of home. 

Brienne shed her leather jacket, draping it over the back of the recliner, and set her helmet on the desk. She toed off her boots, so she could peel off her leather pants. Going to the closet, she pulled the door open and flicked the light on. To the left were some of her clothes that she had stashed there the last time she’d been a guest as Casterly Rock. Brienne pulled out a pair of light black cotton pants, and pulled them on just as Jaime came in. Without looking at him, she could tell he was scowling. “Okay, okay, I know, I was shooting my mouth off at the wrong time… again.” She turned to face the music and saw the Queen. 

“Did you sleep with my brother?” Cersei asked, getting right to the point.

There was no sense in lying. “Yeah, I did, but he wasn’t any good,” Brienne answered. Then, lowering her voice, she added, “He was drunk and horny, and I was the only blonde close enough besides his right hand.” When they had had sex, she was looking for a quick bang, and so had Jaime. She hadn’t known exactly what she was getting into when they stumbled into a bed, but it wasn’t like she thought it would be. Then, when he’d been sleeping, he’d called out his sister’s name, and she knew she was just a means to an end. Any stirrings of romantic feelings she might have had fizzled out that night.

“You’re trying to provoke me,” Cersei stated.

“Why would I want to do that?” Brienne asked. 

“Because you’ve fallen in love with Jaime,” Cersei pointed out. 

“Did I?” Brienne asked, arching her right eyebrow. “No, no I didn’t. Even if I did, the sex cured me of that real quick. I wasn’t the right kind of blonde he wanted.” How much more subtle did she have to be? Though, if the Queen understood her meaning – which she was sure she did – Brienne was getting really tired of beating around the bush, so to speak. “Look, I don’t want Jaime, not in that way. I have a ruggedly handsome, big in the pants ginger waiting for me to rock his world. So, are we done with this little territorial display? He’s all yours, Your Grace,” she said, glancing at Jaime who had appeared in the open doorway. 

“I don’t like your partner, Jaime,” Cersei snapped. 

“Well, she is mine, and you have no say in who I work with,” Jaime replied calmly, walking into the room, dropping his bag next to Brienne’s. 

“Get rid of her,” Cersei demanded.

Brienne snort laughed. “Yeah, tell her why I’m the only one who will work with you.” When he scowled at her, she said, “The only family the people and the King’s Guard hate more than me, is a Lannister.” She wasn’t going to be a bitch and call him ‘King Slayer’. At the end of the day, she wasn’t that heartless towards him. 

“Lion’s don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep,” Cersei quoted her father, Tywin.

“And a dragon is above the lions and the sheep,” Brienne replied. When she was away from the safety of the Sapphire Isle, she relied heavily on being a dragon, on using the side of herself that made the people afraid. Outside of Tarth, no one spoke High Valyrian either. Her mother had taught her to speak it, to make it her native tongue.

“Okay, enough, the both of you,” Jaime finally interceded. “Cersei, we’re tired, and my arm is starting to hurt. I would like to get a little sleep before father returns and starts in on how careless I was to get hurt. Please, go,” he said pointing towards the door. Cersei scowled at him and he scowled right back, but she left like he asked. Brienne stayed and he was fine with that. His partner didn’t say a word as she walked over to the window and sat down. Jaime kicked off his boots and stretched out in his bed. 

“You honestly love that woman?” Brienne asked, keeping her voice low enough so that only Jaime could hear her. 

“Yes,” Jaime answered softly. He knew long ago that the only woman in the world for him was Cersei. They were everything to each other; the beginning and the end. 

“Hmm…” Brienne mumbled, looking back out the window. Idly, she wondered what it would be like to be in love. It was a feeling people would go to war over. After all, that was how Robert Baratheon became king. He started a war because the love of his life had been taken from him. 

 

EVENING:

 

The sun was setting when dinner was served, and the Lord of Casterly Rock had returned. Tywin Lannister walked into the dining hall to find his three children and two guests waiting for him. One he knew on sight as a sell sword that cavorted with Tyrion all through the brothels of the capitol. The other he had a vague recollection of. As he sat down, motioning for those at the table to do so as well, the name of the pale blonde-haired woman came to him. Brienne of Tarth. She was in the King’s Guard and she was Jaime’s partner. 

Jaime tried in vain to look as normal as he could eating dinner with his left hand. The fork gripped between his thumb and index finger felt positively strange. Ambidextrous he was not. Though, he supposed that was his own failing. He never thought to cultivate the various neural pathways necessary to use both hands for simple tasks. Damn the Brotherhood without Banners. Beric had been the one to drive a dagger through his wrist, twisting it. If it hadn’t been for Brienne, he might have bled out. Gently setting his fork down, he picked up a dinner roll. He could nibble on that. After all, he wasn’t very hungry and dining with his father made him nervous. 

Brienne could feel the tension filling the room. Tyrion was drunk, doing his best not to be drunk. Cersei was glaring at her over the top of her goblet. Jaime was trying to eat his dinner while trying not to appear injured. Bronn – Tyrion’s sell sword friend – sat eyeing her, and she right back. Though, she was contemplating the best place to stick a knife if he got too uppity. All in all, it was a typical dinner in the Lannister household. She let her thoughts drift back to the tavern and to the ginger behind the bar. Brienne took a sip of her wine to hide the small smile that had curved her lips.

A knock sounded and a servant opened the door. “My Lord, a raven has arrived for Captain Lannister and Commander Brienne.” 

Brienne nearly choked on her wine. 

Jaime glanced at his father, and then nodded to the servant. He pushed his chair back and got up, subtly kicking Brienne’s chair, telling her she should come along. His partner didn’t hesitate, but she made it seem as if she was being inconvenienced a great deal. 

Out in the hall, Brienne eyed the mechanical raven warily. Those metal birds were creepy on their own, but when they started talking, it really sealed her dislike for them. 

Jaime pressed his thumb to the scanner on the mechanical bird’s chest. The eyes opened, green lights pulsing. Then the recording started, “By order of Lord Commander Selmy, Captain Lannister of Casterly Rock and Commander Targaryen of Tarth are hereby put on two months leave...” 

“Oh, gods… that thing is even creepier when it talks with his voice,” Brienne groaned. “Why couldn’t he just write a note like everyone else?”

“Furthermore, when the two months are up, report to the Small Council Chamber upon your return to King’s Landing.” 

“That’s not good,” Jaime whispered.

“He probably read the report I sent ahead,” Brienne muttered. Though the tone in Selmy’s voice was ominous. At least they were getting two months to rest, Jaime could recuperate, and then they would get yelled at. 

“No…we’re screwed,” Jaime stated.

“Yeah, we are,” Brienne agreed. They weren’t officially supposed to be in the North chasing ghosts. They had taken off and now they had to pay the price. Though, it presented her with an opportunity. She could go back to the tavern and have two months of fun with her ginger. “Guess I’ll be leaving in the morning,” she stated.

“Oh no, you’re not leaving me here alone,” Jaime argued.

“I won’t be, you’ll have your sister to look after you,” Brienne replied with a wink. He only scowled at her. 

 

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT:

 

Jaime laid awake in bed while Brienne was sound asleep, curled on her side next to him. Having his partner know about his affections or Cersei should have made his stomach twist into knots that she would tell someone or say the wrong thing at the wrong time. But he knew Brienne, she was honorable, and she wouldn’t give away his secret. Looking over at her, he wondered how he got lucky to have her as his partner. She didn’t hate him for killing her uncle. She didn’t hate him because he was a Lannister, even though he could be – as she would put it – a bit of a jack ass. Brienne of Tarth alone saw the best in him.

Carefully, Jaime climbed out of bed and took up her earlier seat in the window. It was strange to be back at Casterly Rock with her, given that she knew about his relationship with Cersei. True, he wasn’t going to be foolish and tell her everything, but a part of him wanted to. He wanted to confide in her, be he knew he couldn’t. Cersei would fly through the roof. Jaime wouldn’t put Brienne in danger like that. Even though she could protect herself, Cersei would find the one weakness Brienne had and his sister would exploit it, before using it to kill her. 

Except, to Jaime’s knowledge, Brienne had no personal weaknesses. She did what his little brother did. She wore her dragon nature around her like a suit of armor. Whenever someone deemed to call her crazy, she took it as a compliment, and used it as fuel for some personal crusade he scarcely knew anything about. Come to think of it, she barely told him anything about her past or her parents. He did most of the talking, usually to complain about his little brother being in trouble or his father making unreasonable demands on him. She would just smile and nod, make some witty retort and that would be that. 

Jaime knew next to nothing about her, which he found odd. He knew what side of the bed she liked to sleep on. He knew how she liked sex; varied positions and degrees of roughness. He could recite her coffee order from memory and the way she liked to have breakfast. Her heart was a noble one. Other than knowing she was half Targaryen; she hadn’t told him anything about her family. Was that going to come back and bite him one day?

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

MORNING:

 

Brienne came downstairs looking for her haversack. She had a change of clothes waiting for her when she got up, but the bag had seemed to have gotten up and walked away. Walking out in the courtyard of the inner keep she spied Jaime, and her bags were in the back of a Lannister Rover. He looked over at her, motioning her over. There was something in his body language that told her to keep quiet. She nodded, closing the distance between them. “What’s going on?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“You’re taking this Rover and getting out of here for two months,” Jaime replied, just as quietly. Normally, on the rare occasions they had leave, they would spend it together. But given that Cersei was here, and Brienne’s presence antagonized his sister, he opted to get his partner out of dodge. After he had stopped his brain from second guessing everything about Brienne, his thoughts turned to the message Selmy had delivered to them via the raven. It was off somehow, but he wasn’t sure how. 

“I like my bike,” Brienne shot back.

“It needs a tune up,” Jaime replied smoothly. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Brienne argued. 

Jaime turned on her, his face perilously close to hers as he replied, “It does, and you’re taking the Rover as I’ve already disabled the GPS tracking system.” 

Brienne noticed that a Lannister soldier was getting closer to them, so she joked, “You know you’re basically giving me leave to have sex for two months, right?”

“I’m aware,” Jaime replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, good!” Brienne nodded. Then, she said, “Don’t screw up my bike, or I’ll kick your ass.” Before she got in the Rover, she moved close to Jaime and hugged him, whispering in his ear, “What’s going on?”

Jaime, wrapping his arms around her in return, replied, “I don’t know yet, so be careful.” He slipped an encrypted cell into her jacket pocket. “Curtesy of Podrick, your sword has been given a few modifications, as well as a new encryption for your cell so we can communicate safely. When I know more, I’ll tell you.” 

Brienne closed her eyes, squeezing him tight. “I’ll keep my head down and out of trouble,” she promised. It was the least she could do for him while he tried to suss out what was going on. 

Jaime pressed a kiss to the side of Brienne’s head, letting her know that he believed her. If she promised something, then she would be true to her word. “Now, go.” Pulling back from her, he handed over the keys, and watched her open the driver’s side door. 

Brienne stuck the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life. She didn’t look back as she put the vehicle into drive and headed through the open gates. In her time on the planet, she hadn’t come to trust very many people, but Jaime Lannister was one she did trust implicitly. If he said something was wrong, then it was. She relied on his intuition more than a few times and it had saved them in the past. 

 

******

 

Brienne had been driving for most of the day when finally, she had to pull over. The section of the King’s Road she was on was deserted and no one would see her get out of her vehicle to pace back and forth. She a moment to wonder if going to the tavern was the wisest course of action. If she and Jaime were in trouble, then she couldn’t in good conscience bring that trouble to Tor’s doorstep. Despite the fact she wanted to fuck him six ways till Sunday. Then again, what better place for her o keep a low profile than an out of the way tavern along the King’s Road.

Brienne pulled out her cell, her instinct was to call Jaime, but if he had some information, he would have called her by now. Shoving the thin plastic device back in her inner jacket pocket, she climbed back in the Rover and started driving again. The road was deserted, and she gave her attention to the radio, scrubbing through the stations trying to find something to listen to. Ironically enough, she stopped on a broadcast that was telegraphing the blow by blow of a death match in the fighting pits of Meereen. The cheers, jeers, and boos of the crowd faded into the background. 

The rolling landscape faded just as the hours did. Brienne got to the tavern just before the dinner hour. She parked and felt an odd sense of elation come over her at being back. Locking the rover, she headed to the door and walked in. There, behind the bar was the ginger she had nearly had liaisons with just yesterday. With purpose, she strode over to the bar and leaned it against it, waiting for him to notice her. She started tapping her fingers on the scarred wood. 

Tormund looked up and saw Brie. “Well, I’ll be damned!” 

“Miss me?” Brienne asked and winked at him. 

Moving down the line of the bar, Tormund stood in front of her and whispered in a low growl, “I’ve been hard for you since you left.”

“Ooh!” Brienne chuckled wicked. “Now, that’s the kind of thing I like to hear.”

“What can I get you?” Tormund asked, tossing a towel over his shoulder, letting it drape there. 

“You, naked in a bed,” Brienne answered. 

“We don’t serve that until Midnight,” Tormund replied, winking at her.

“Damn,” Brienne said, snapping her fingers. “What can I get right now?”

“Burger and fries,” Tormund said. 

“And a beer?” Brienne asked hopefully. She could use the kick of alcohol flowing through her system. It would help her nerves and calm her down from going into a full-blown panic until Jaime called her.

“On the house,” Tormund responded.

Brienne pulled out a gold dragon coin, setting it on the bar. “I pay for my food.” She stood up, gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him as close as she could so she could kiss him. It was quick, but full of promise of what she intended to do to him.

“Midnight can’t come soon enough,” Tormund said with a growl of building desire. It was going to kill him to work while she was at the bar eyeing him, waiting for the magic hour. Never had he been so resentful of having a tavern full of patrons.

 

******

 

Brienne had devoured her burger and fries, as well as downed the stout beer, then gone back for a refill. Now, she was sitting at a center table playing cards with a few men, and she was taking all their money. She knew by the way they were dressed, they were employed by Tywin Lannister, and they had the gold to lose. Brienne laughed, pounding her hand on the table, as another round ended with her as the winner. Lady luck was with her tonight. Or, it could be the heated glances she would be sharing with Tor whenever their eyes met. The distraction of the game had made the hours fly by. It was full dark outside and closer to getting what she wanted. They were the last people left in the tavern. 

Tormund called out, “Last call, everyone!” In the two years he’d been South, he’d learn to talk and pass himself off as one of them while keeping his Free Folk heart and sense of duty to his people. Now, with each look he shared with the beautiful blonde across the room, he found himself risking everything. And for what? A bit of fun? Thankfully, he’d managed to move the few Free Folk he had hiding in the cellar last night. He could fuck her with a clear conscience, at least. 

“And that means we’re off to another Inn. You should join us!”

The man to Brienne’s left clapped her on the shoulder, laughing. She faked a laugh and said, “I’m good here.” Automatically, her eyes tracked to Tor. He was drying a mug, staring at her just as intently. She squeezed her thighs tightly together. Chairs scraped across the floor, but she hardly noticed. Her brain wasn’t in control at the moment; her libido was. Though, she had enough sense to wait until the front door opened, and then closed with a loud squeal of the aged hinges. 

Tormund turned his back for a moment to set the clean mug down. When he turned back, she was halfway to the bar, taking her jacket off as she moved. Blood rushed through his body, hardening his cock in a matter of seconds. The white t-shirt she wore, stretched across her torso giving him a good view of her breasts and the press of her nipples through the cotton. He lifted the section of the bar top, allowing her to come over to his side. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, looking her up and down.

“Disappointed?” Brienne asked, gripping the hem of her shirt, whipping it over her head, and dropped it on the steel counter next to her. A shiver went through her, tingles hardening her nipples further.

“Fuck no!” Tormund exclaimed. He gripped her about the waist, pulling her tight against him, his lips claiming hers. She draped her arms over his shoulders, rubbing herself against him. The rest of the night was a blur as he lost himself in her over and over. 

 

******

 

Brienne dozed, her body trying to calm itself after the third bout of vigorous sex between her and lusty ginger lover. He had promised her to do it to her all night long and he was keeping his word. Her body had never been so thoroughly put through the paces as it was in his bed. Oh, gods, she could do with a bit more attention. Rolling to her back, she brought the light black cotton sheet across her body and sat up. Her body protested, after being so delicious used and sated, but she wanted more. 

Brienne didn’t find her lover in bed beside her. No, she found him sitting in a chair by the fireplace. The flames were roaring in the hearth, chasing away the night chill. She pulled the sheet around her and got out of bed to go to him. There, she spied he was hard again. “Well, well, well… haven’t gotten enough, have you?” she asked playfully, straddling his lap with the sheet pooling around her waist. 

Tormund immediately cupped her backside, his fingers curling into the sheet, and answered, “I did promise you all night long. Besides, you looked so damned gorgeous sleeping naked in my bed.” After their sex-capades, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. If he had dozed off, then he would have missed one second with her. He couldn’t risk it. Again, she was unlike any woman he’d ever met. Here and North of the Wall. 

Brienne reached down between them, taking him in hand. She took him into her body again, sighing with pleasure as he filled her. “Gods, your big, and I love it,” she moaned in pleasure. Biting her bottom lip, she leaned her forehead to his, moving her hips. 

“Will you tell me your full name?” Tormund asked despite the fact she was fucking him. 

Brienne stilled, her hands cupping his face. She asked, “Are you serious right now? I literally have your cock inside me, and you want to ask me questions?” This man was crazy and she kind of loved it. 

“Yeah, but we can make it fun,” Tormund answered, moving ever so slightly to cause a tremor of pleasure to race through her. She kissed him, filling his mouth with a light purring moan.

“I don’t think you have enough blood in your body to fuel two heads at once,” Brienne quipped. She undulated her hips to prove a point. His eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back.

“Tell me,” Tormund growled, thrusting into her, making her moan again, “your full name.”

Brienne bit her bottom lip, resting her forehead to his again. “Brienne Targaryen of Tarth…” she said. “Now you.” This time, she turned the tables on him, grinding down on him. Riding him harder.

“Tormund…Giantsbane,” he answered. She moved faster, stealing the last little bit of strength he had. It was worth it, though. If this was the only time, he would have access to her amazing body, then he would take full advantage and be used by her in any way she saw fit. 

******

Some time later, they were back in bed. Brienne was on her side, facing Tormund, the tip of her finger tracing the burn scar on his chest. It was an intricate spiral that she’d never seen before. They hadn’t spoken since she’d given him a fantastic ride and that was fine by her. She was contenting herself with touching him, with being watched by him. It wasn’t often she was prone to long moments of silence, but in this moment, in the stillness, she couldn’t find the words she wanted to ask personal questions.

“What’s it like being a Targaryen?” Tormund asked quietly. While she idly traced the burn mark on his chest, he played with one of her pretty, pink nipples; teasing it to a peak once again. There were rumors that her family’s blood was that of actual dragons, making them impervious to fire. He wondered if that was true.

“Everybody hates me on sight,” Brienne answered, then taking her hand away from his chest, she ran her fingers through her sweaty mass of silver blonde locks. “I think it’s the hair,” she joked, looking away from him for a moment. It was her turn to ask him something, now that they were talking. “What about you? Tormund isn’t a Westerosi name.”

“No, it’s not,” Tormund nodded his head, letting her change the topic. “I’m from beyond the Wall. One of the Free Folk.” There he’d said it. He knew the moment he saw her, he wanted to do nothing but tell her the truth about himself. It was crazy and stupid and a monumental gamble. But he’d done it.

“Okay,” Brienne said simply. She knew he was too good to be an ordinary man from Westeros.

“It’s not what you… wait…. What?” Tormund sat up, looking down on her with shock playing out on his face. 

Brienne sat up as well, the sheet pooling in her lap. “So, you’re from beyond the Wall. Is that supposed to make you any less of a person to me?”

“Most people hate ‘Wildlings’.” Tormund curled his lip at that name. It was degrading to who they were as a people. 

“I’m not most people. I get hated on sight for being what I am,” Brienne replied, commiserating with him. Since he trusted her with the truth about himself, it was only fair she did the same. “My family has a history of going insane,” she started, “and I know that practically everyone I meet waits for something to snap, for me to lose my mind and become obsessed with the mythos of the Targaryen bloodline.”

“What mythos?” Tormund asked. He’d heard whisperings of the tragic demise of the once great Targaryen house, but he’d never been too keen to ask more about them. He’d heard they were all dead. Then, rumors persisted of a Targaryen in the East, making a name for herself. Still, he didn’t ask about them. Inquiring about a decimated family would only draw attention to himself and what he was doing. He couldn’t risk it before, but now he was.

Brienne got up and went over to the fireplace. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if trusting hm with this was really the right thing. But with a look back at him, seeing the confusion on his face, she made up her mind. Boldly, she stuck her hand into the fire. 

Tormund bounded out of the bed, racing to her, yanking her hand out of the fire. But what he saw astounded him. She wasn’t burned. “How is this possible?”

“Dragons blood makes a few select people in my family impervious to fire,” Brienne answered softly. A freak genetic quirk that made people fear her family and wonder when they would go mad. Then she kept speaking because Tormund made her feel safe enough to do so. “My mother was Rhaena Targaryen, younger sister to Aerys. When she was sixteen, her brother tried to kill her, but she caught wind of it and fled the capitol, making her way to Tarth.” That was all she wanted to tell him right now. Tormund said nothing. He took her hand that had been in the flames and kissed her knuckles gently. 

Keeping ahold of her hand, Tormund pulled her away from the fireplace and back towards the bed. He sat on the bed, moving back to lean against the headboard. Brienne didn’t join him, however. She sat on the edge, looking at the flames. When she was ready to talk more, she would. He couldn’t push her to talk and he wasn’t ready to continue their conversation. It was enough to try and digest the fact that she had put her hand into the fire and come away without a burn. His hand automatically rested over the spiral ice burn he had on his chest. She wasn’t the only one with secrets. He was a marked man. “You’re not the only one with secrets,” Tormund said quietly.

Brienne scoffed. “What, there’s more to you than being one of the Free Folk?” she asked, turning to face him. Her eyes settled on the burn scar. It wasn’t from a heated iron. It was from ice. She reached out to trace the intricate spiral again. “Does your secret have something to do with your mark?”

“I didn’t just come South to escape the never-ending winter,” Tormund replied, covering her hand with his. “Have you heard of White Walkers?” They were an ever-present danger to the Free Folk clans. 

Intrigued by where he was going with his question, Brienne answered, “Frozen boogeymen, yeah I’ve heard of them. Nannies use stories of them to frighten children into behaving.” 

“Oh, they’re very real,” Tormund responded in a hushed horrified whisper. 

“I believe you,” Brienne said gently to him.

“My clan has very ancient ties beyond the Wall, being one of the first ones to be established. Thousands of years ago, the leader was taken by the Children of the Forest and made into the Night King, but he turned on them, and chose to create his army of the dead. The first people he intended to make into his soldiers were that of his own Cave Bear Clan, but they had fled after his capture…” Tormund trailed off, collecting his thoughts.

Brienne listened to him tell his tale. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she remained silent, listening to the story unfold.

“For a while they went un-checked, killing and growing their army, until one day, they vanished. Then for thousands of years the Free Folk flourished. But the fragile balance up North shifted and whole villages would go silent. One day a huge snowstorm kicked up near my home, but it wasn’t normal and before too long we were surrounded by dead things. By the end of it, I was the only fighter left alive, and face to face with one of the White Walker Generals. He – it – branded me with this mark. It recognized me as belonging to the same clan, the same blood, as their King.” Tormund leaned his head back, closing his eyes. No other living soul knew of his link to the Night King – not even his half-sister Osha. He had gone to great lengths to cover up the mark, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the North. The next village he stopped at was beset with dead that very night. Tormund had to go somewhere the army of the dead couldn’t go; South. It pained him to leave his family behind.

Brienne didn’t have anything to say in response to his story, but she believed what he said was true. All of Westeros dismissed the idea that the dead could rise and be used as an army to attack under the thrall of an all-powerful Night King. There were stories, of course, and even cave drawings on Dragonstone to support the presence of the malevolent King, but no one had seen him. So, no one wanted to believe he still existed. The way Tormund spoke though, it was enough to convince her that the Night King was real. She placed her hand over the mark and noticed that it was freezing cold. The hand that touched him had been the one that had been in the fire. “That’s weird,” she whispered.

“What?” Tormund asked, looking down at her hand. He knew she wasn’t talking about he’d told her.

“The mark, it’s freezing cold against my palm,” Brienne answered. When she lifted her hand, the brand had faded a fraction. Fire melted ice.

Tormund saw what she was seeing. He’d carried this mark for years, forced to live on his own, barely surviving until he could make his escape South, and now he could go home. She made a move to get out of the bed when he stopped her by gripping her wrist. “Wait…” 

“What?” Brienne asked, obviously confused. She could do something nice for him by removing the brand from the Free Folk version of the devil. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… don’t take it off yet. I might need it.” Tormund brought her hand up to his lips, placing a kiss to her palm. 

“What could you possibly need that for?” Brienne inquired sharply. It made no sense to her as to why he would want to continue to walk around with a bullseye on his chest.

“To save my sister and my two daughters,” Tormund answered. He let her hand fall from his grasp as the weight of what he said settled with her. Initially, he had come South to protect his family until he could get them here, but now, he sensed that he had to return home and face what had been done to him.

 

TBC....


	3. Chapter 3

Brienne pulled back after hearing him say he had daughters. “Hold on…” she said getting out of bed. “Kids? You have kids? Anything else you want to add, maybe, a wife?” She paced back and forth, letting her mind run wild. What was she freaking out for? She’d only come here for sex. Then, stupidly, she let her guard down and spilled her guts to him. “I don’t fuck married men!” she shouted.

Tormund waited for a few seconds before he got up and stood in her way. He kept his body relaxed and said, “I’m not married. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Tormund stayed where he was until she had burned through her sudden rising anger. If he provoked her in the wrong way, she might get her clothes and leave. He couldn’t bear to have her walk out his door.

“So… what? Am I just a good time?” Brienne asked heatedly. She didn’t want to be calmed down. She wanted to be angry at herself for being so stupid, for daring to believe she could trust someone. Even in her anger, she realized she sounded like a hypocrite. After all, she came here for a good time. 

Nothing Tormund could say would curb her ire, so he said, “The mother of my two girls, she’s dead.” He wanted her to know that he was unattached and free to be with her, if that was what she wanted from him. 

Brienne stopped, letting his words sink in. In a split second her anger, her embarrassment faded away. Looking at him, she replied softly, “Now, I feel like an asshole.” She brought her hands up to cover her face. It was disorienting to be this thrown by a man she’d only met. 

Tormund ran his fingers through her hair, brushing back the silver locks that had fallen over her face and hands. He kissed the top of her head, showing her that he understood her reaction to everything he told her. She was the first person he felt he could tell anything about himself to. It was late, they were exhausted, and everything else could wait until morning. “Come on, let’s get some sleep, and we’ll talk more later.” 

Brienne dropped her hands knowing he was right. “You want a crazy person in your bed?” she asked in a joking manner to help distance herself from the monumental embarrassment she was still feeling. The soft look on his face bled way the last of her embarrassment and anger. 

“The crazier the better,” Tormund replied caressing her cheek.

“You’ll regret saying that,” Brienne commented and followed him back to bed.

 

 

**CASTERLY ROCK:**

 

 

Jaime was awake – again. His right wrist was throbbing like a sore tooth and he was refusing to break down and take pain medication for it. The salve he had under the bandage was a concoction of Qyburn’s design and it numbed the worst of it. While he was awake, he was going to make good use of his time and take the mechanical raven apart to see if there was anything he could get out of the programming. He took the cord his phone, connected it, and then hooked his cell up letting a program run.   
  
Jaime sat back in his chair and glanced over at the bed where Cersei was fast asleep. The golden silk camisole she’d worn to sleep in had ridden up, exposing her flat abdomen. His eyes trekked up to her face, to her soft, kissable lips, and her tantalizing green eyes. He chuckled softly. “I thought you were sleeping,” Jaime whispered.  
  
“You’re not in bed beside me,” Cersei replied, her words slurring as she fought off falling back to sleep. Yawning, she got up and went to the desk where she saw the raven he’d taken apart. “What’d you do that for?” she asked, picking up a small bolt, inspecting it.  
  
“Brienne was right, these things are creepy,” Jaime said sarcastically. Actually, it was something she would have done, and had once before. He laughed at her while she meticulously took the raven apart. Now, he was glad he watched, so he would know how to do it.  
  
“That doesn’t explain why you took it apart,” Cersei responded quietly. In the dead of night, voices tended to carry. After years of being lovers, they didn’t need to be discovered now. Absentmindedly, she massaged the back of his neck while she waited for him to answer her.   
  
“When we were listening to Selmy’s message, something struck me as odd. Even though I’m injured, he never would have given me leave – or Brienne. So, I started thinking, and it led me to take this… thing… apart. My phone is searching the bird’s programming to see if there’s anything hidden in it,” Jaime explained, and his phone dinged.  
  
Cersei quipped, “Maybe you aren’t the stupidest Lannister, after all.”  
  
“When are you going to let that go?” Jaime rolled his eyes as he picked up his phone. A large body of text was downloading in a language he couldn’t read but recognized as Valyrian. He’d seen it enough to know the language on sight because of Brienne. His partner often wrote letters in the old dialect. From what he could tell it was a transcript of multiple conversations between Barristan Selmy and Joer Mormont – the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.   
  
Cersei felt Jaime’s demeanor change. “What?” she asked and took his phone.   
  
“It’s a coded message in Old High Valyrian,” Jaime said with a heavy sigh. “It’s not exactly a language that can be translated with any degree of accuracy because words often have double meaning or no gender, so, I would need someone who actually speaks it. And the only one who does is getting her brains banged out.”  
  
Cersei’s lip curled. “Ew,” she muttered. The last thing she needed to think about was the silver haired woman having sex. “You’re not thinking of leaving and going to find her, are you?” Cersei inquired heatedly.   
  
“I don’t have to find her, I already know where she is,” Jaime replied. “But I do have to get this to her.”  
  
“Text message,” Cersei snapped. “The beauty of technology.”   
  
“No,” Jaime said, shaking his head. “I have to see her face when she reads it. Despite what she might think, she’s not very good at lying to me.” Over the course of their partnership – their friendship – he’d seen her write in Old High Valyrian a number of times, even heard her speak it when she was on the phone. When he would ask her about it, she would laugh it off and say it was a family thing. Now he was beginning to wonder.   
  
“What does that matter?” Cersei was getting confused. Not only did she not understand Jaime’s fondness for the other woman, but it was starting to annoy her.   
  
“I think Selmy meant Brienne to find this,” Jaime answered. Barristan Selmy loyally served the Targaryen family when they ruled King’s Landing. It would stand to reason that he was the one who translated the messages between him and Mormont into the dead language. But why? Decisively, he said, “Pack a bag, I’m taking you North to be with Robert and the kids.” Every year, Robert would travel to Winterfell to be with his old friend, Ned Stark for a month. There would be hunting, drinking, feasting, and more hunting. Jaime knew Cersei hated being away from the children, but she hated the North more. She and Robert had mutually agreed that this would be his time with the kids, and she would go to Casterly Rock.   
  
“No,” Cersei stated, putting her foot down. “We should just stay here,” she argued quietly.  
  
“It’s either that or you stay here with father, our little brother, and his sell sword friend,” Jaime proposed, ignoring what she had just said.   
  
“Give me an hour,” Cersei said in a defeated tone. She didn’t want to stay here without her twin. Sometimes, it was better for her not to argue with him. They couldn’t exactly have a proper fight, after all.  
  
“We’ll leave before dawn, so we don’t have to explain ourselves to father,” Jaime stated as he went to his closet. Taking Cersei with him was risky, he knew that, but he had this sense of urgency riding him. Whatever was happening, Selmy wanted Brienne in the thick of it, and by extension, Jaime as well.  
  
  
**MORNING:**  
  
  
The first thing Brienne heard was the chirping of some persistent bird. She groaned, rolling over to find she was alone – again. For a few minutes she had the chance to bask in the wonderful feeling of being thoroughly pleasured and have her carnal hunger sated for the time being. Sitting up, she saw him come in the room carrying a tray and had a devilish grin on his face. “You made me breakfast in bed. Damn, I’m lucky,” she laughed. Eating breakfast in bed while still naked was new for her. Normally with her one-night stands, she was out the door before they were even awake.   
  
Tormund stopped short of the bed upon seeing her with the black sheet pooling in her lap. The dark fabric made her skin appear paler. “Oh, no…. I’m the lucky man,” he said, his voice taking on a lusty growl. After last night, he wanted to do something nice for her. It was his hope that it went a long way towards smoothing out any misunderstanding they might have had about him being attached someone else.  He’d gotten up and went to the kitchen to fix toast, bacon, eggs, and brew a pot of coffee. Carefully, he sat down with the tray balanced on his knee. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat.”  
  
“I usually sleep through breakfast,” Brienne chuckled. That was something that annoyed Jaime. He usually had to cover for her with Selmy during the morning briefing. Yet, even after he would berate her for it, he still covered for her. Though, with Tormund bringing her food, she might reconsider the whole idea of breakfast, especially since he was serving her in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.  
  
“This is a special treat then,” Tormund replied. He moved the tray over to her left side and scooted close to her. Then, he dipped his pinky finger into the bowl of honey he had set on the tray at the last minute. Keenly aware she was watching him, the color rising in her cheeks, he spread the golden syrup over the pink bud of her right nipple.  
  
Brienne let her head fall back as she threaded her fingers through his wild ginger hair, cupping the back of his head. Seconds later, his mouth closed over her and his tongue moved in a slow swirl. “Oh, gods…” she moaned. Then, her freak out last night had guilt swelling inside of her. Even though what he was doing to her felt extremely good, she heard herself saying, “I’m not good at this.” 

Tormund let her pert honey flavored nipple fall from his mouth as he looked up at her. “At what? Having sex with a man you met in a bar?” he asked, half joking. 

“Actually, I’m really good at that,” Brienne replied. “Last night when I freaked out on you… I’m… uh…. I’m sorry,” she said finally. She had taken it in stride when he told her that he was from beyond the Wall, that he was marked – presumably for death – by a White Walker and had to flee South. It was the mention of his kids that made her mind race with panic that she had crossed a line she swore never to cross. 

Tormund smiled gently at her, cupping her cheek with his right hand. “It’s all right,” he said before leaning in to kiss her softly.  It was endearing to him that she felt compelled to apologize for something he’d already forgiven her for. It wasn’t serious to him, but to her, she felt the need to say ‘sorry’.

“Still,” Brienne whispered, “I freaked out pretty badly for a woman who only came here for sex. And I was a bit of a hypocrite accusing you of only wanting a good time.” It surprised her how quickly she felt herself becoming attached to him. She sighed softly and leaned back against the headboard. He didn’t let her get too far and the smile she gave him urged him to come closer. Looking at him, she flicked her gaze towards the little bowl of honey, and then back to him. 

“Oh, I see what you want,” Tormund growled, wagging his brows. He picked up the bowl, tilting it to dribble a little bit of honey in a line down the center of her chest. Then, he set the tip of his tongue to the end of the line just above her navel, slowly licking up. 

Brienne moaned and laughed at the same time. His tongue felt wicked against her skin, moving as slowly as he was.  Her body felt flush; her flesh insanely hot. When he followed the line to its end, he came up and took her lips, letting her taste the sweetness as well as a hint of salt. 

Tormund plunged his tongue into her mouth, plundering her mouth with a ruthless abandon.  In counterpoint to his kisses, he thrust his hardon against her while being painfully aware that the sheet and his sweatpants were between them. “Want me to get naked?” he asked, winking at her. 

“Hell yes,” Brienne moaned at the same time her phone dinged. That sound put a damper on the mood because she knew that sound meant only one thing. Jaime was close by. Last night while she had been waiting for the patrons of the tavern to filter out, she had fiddled with her phone. It was set to make a sound when his cell phone was in close proximity to hers. That meant only one thing. He was back at the bar. 

By the expression on her face, they weren’t going to screw each other senseless. Tormund pulled back with great reluctance and asked, “I’m not going to like this am I?” She glared at her phone as if she were trying to make the thing combust just with her mind. 

Brienne growled, climbing over Tormund to get out of bed. She pulled on her black lace panties and threw on a muscle shirt that carried the Lannister Lion emblazoned on the front. But before she let her anger get the better of her, she went back to him, and kissed him. “I won’t tell you to stay here,” she said and then walked off. 

Tormund picked up his black t-shirt and pulled it on. He might as well go down there and make sure she didn’t do anything she would regret. Without her in the room, his body cooled off enough for him to think and for him to make plans about returning North. Now that he knew she could remove the brand left on him; it was worth the risk of going after his family.

 

******

 

 

Downstairs, Brienne waited by the bar with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the door as it opened, and Jaime walked in. Before he could even say one word to her, she snapped, “You are not supposed to be here.”

Jaime looked her up and down; black panties and a muscle shirt. Typical Brienne. Still, to antagonize her, he asked, “Is that my shirt?” Risking another injury, he walked closer to her, just as Cersei came through the door.

“You had better have a good reason for interrupting my breakfast,” Brienne said, glaring at Cersei Lannister over Jaime’s shoulder. 

“You don’t eat breakfast, you sleep through it,” Jaime replied coolly.

Brienne dropped her arms, placing her hands on her hips and informed him, “I was about to have breakfast… in bed… naked… and I was ten seconds away from having my body deliciously fucked. And yet, here you are, and here I stand. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“This is important,” Jaime replied gently. 

“So is my sex life,” Brienne retorted. 

Cersei was losing what little patience she had with the other woman. To Jaime she said, “Will you just show her what you found so we can get out of this hell hole.” She didn’t want to be in this hovel one second longer than she had to be.

“I’ve had this place called a lot of things, ‘hell hole’ is a first for me though,” Tormund said idly as he set foot on the bottom step. He passed by Brienne, touching his hand to her thigh letting her know that he was here for her, if she needed him. 

Jaime looked at his sister and mouthed, ‘Stop it.’ She only rolled her eyes at him before going to sit at a table reluctantly. Through his years in the King’s Guard, he’d grown used to places like this, but Cersei was still a snob with refined taste.

Tormund eyed the woman who spoke and then passed by Brienne, muttering, “I’ll get some coffee.” 

“Sorry about this,” Brienne whispered her reply. Then to Jaime she asked, “Show me what?” She could set aside her anger and frustration long enough to find out why he had the nerve to interrupt her. By the look on her face it was serious. It could even have something to do with why Selmy had put them both on leave. 

Jaime pulled out a tablet, powered it up, and handed it to her. The first thing to pop up was the document containing the text written in her native language.  “I know enough to recognize Valyrian when I see, but I can’t read this. You, on the other hand, can.” The first look was telling. It was a mixture of shock and resignation.

“I explained why I know Valyrian,” Brienne hissed.

“Yeah, family, I know,” Jaime replied testily. He was getting irritated with her constant answer of ‘family’.

Brienne curled her lip, growling in frustration. She took the tablet and went to sit on the scarred wooden bar top. It was best not to argue with him, not when he was in a mood because he wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say. This was one of the few times she would stay quiet and do what she was told, if only to avoid be irritated. Once she was dee in a rage, she would say something she would later regret. Jaime was her closest friend in the world. He was practically her only friend… besides Podrick.

Tormund came back into the main area, going to stand in between Brienne’s knees. He set the coffee cup next to her, but she didn’t pick it up. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly. He placed his hands on her thighs, rubbing them up and down. Her skin was still pretty warm, despite the few articles of clothing she had on.

Brienne set the tablet aside for a moment, so she could look at him, and take in the handsome features of his face, especially his beautiful blue eyes, and his amazing ginger hair that reminded her of fire.  “It’s fine,” she whispered. “I just have to do a little light reading.” Brienne emphasized the word light in a sarcastic tone, showing him the tablet.

Tormund could see she was shifting gears. The playful, voracious vixen she had been was falling back, and in her place was the woman who dedicated herself to doing what was right and helping others. Letting her get to work, he kissed her lips, and then leaned down to place a kiss to her left thigh. Brienne’s hand cupped the back of his head for a few seconds and then it was gone. “I’ll leave you to it.” He had a few things to plan on his own and he had to contact a friend. 

Brienne smiled. Tormund’s kisses, whether they be to her lips or her body, fired her blood and made her heart beat faster. Unfortunately, she had to quell her body’s desire and focus on the messages between Selmy and Mormont. At first, it was normal things, the normal pleasantries between Commander’s at the opposite ends of the country. Then the tone changed. They were asking about the size of each other’s soldiers. As she continued to read, she knew her brows were furrowed in confusion. The messages weren’t coded, besides being translated in Valyrian, but what was the point in hiding them?  
  
Jaime watched Brienne, her face going through a range of expressions. The one emotion her face had settled on was confusion. Whatever she was reading wasn’t making sense to her. he wasn’t going to press her for information just yet. Idly, he tapped his right index finger on the table. He saw her go back and read the same four paragraphs over three times. “What?” he asked, getting up.  
  
Brienne, her annoyance at him forgotten, replied, “It’s weird. Their correspondence starts off normal enough, well as normal as it could be for two men like them. Then, the tone changes, like they’re each asking about the size of their army in a roundabout way.”  
  
Out of habit, Jaime came over to her, and looked at the tablet. Even though it was still written in Valyrian, he asked, “What do you think it means?”  
  
“I don’t know yet,” Brienne answered, scrolling back up to a message from Mormont. “In this one, Joer talks about losing contact with one of his scouting parties, about how he’s going to go beyond the wall himself to look for them, and then nothing between them for two weeks.”  
  
“Well, that’s not too strange. Is it not part of his job to go beyond the Wall?” Cersei commented, picking up the coffee cup the red headed man had set in front of her. She had to admit it, but she needed the kick of caffeine to jump start her brain. Despite herself, she was intrigued with the deeper meaning behind the correspondence between two powerful men.  
  
“Normally, no,” Jaime answered his sister before Brienne could utter a snide comment that he knew was ready and waiting to fall from her lips.   
  
“Until you read the next message from Joer. It’s dated just after he returned from the North,” Brienne skipped ahead. “He and another Ranger party trekked across the frozen wasteland to the Fist of the First Men, and it was there he found the remains of his missing scouts…” There was a picture and the dismembered bodies were arranged in a spiral that she had seen before. On Tormund’s chest. She set the tablet down and got off the bar. “I need a minute...”  
  
“Hey, hey, you’re not finished with this,” Jaime said sharply, gripping her upper arm.  
  
“I said I need a minute, maybe you’d hear me better if you cleaned some of that Lannister gold out of your ears.” Brienne shoved him, breaking his hold on her. Before he could grab her again, she marched off towards the kitchen where Tormund was keeping himself. The minute she was through the door, she marched over to him, and without giving herself a moment to think about it, she kissed him. It was more for her than anything.   
  
After a few stunned seconds, Tormund broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “What happened?” he asked bringing his hands up to cup her face. The color had drained out of her face.   
  
“If I didn’t believe you about the White Walkers before, I do now,” Brienne admitted. She’d seen gruesome things in her life; most of them while being with the King’s Guard, but the picture was enough to chill her right through to her bones.  
  
“They can’t come South,” Tormund said in an effort to sooth her. The enduring legend about the Wall was that the ice was created with a spell preventing the White Walkers and the army of the dead from crossing the boundary.   
  
“But you’re planning to go back beyond the Wall,” Brienne replied in a harsh whisper. “And when you do, I’ll be right there with you.” The thought of losing him made her guts twist in knots.   
  
Tormund felt the breath flee his lungs. “I would never ask that of you,” he responded with barely any volume to his voice.   
  
“You didn’t have to,” Brienne stated. Last night, after telling him the secret she kept from everyone, she knew her life would mean less without him in it. They could talk about her going with him more later, after Jaime and his sister departed. If they left. “I can’t translate more of the messages without giving away I know more than I should.”  
  
“If you don’t, then your partner will know somethings up,” Tormund replied. “If you’re worried about giving away my secret, don’t be.” He was risking his neck, he knew that.   
  
“You want me to betray your confidence?” Brienne asked and scoffed. “No.”  
  
“It’s not betrayal if I say you can give away my secret,” Tormund responded. He took her hand that she had thrust into the fire last night, rubbing his thumb over back and forth over the center of her palm. “Do you trust him?” he asked plainly.   
  
“With my life,” Brienne answered without hesitation. But would she trust Jaime with Tormund’s life? That answer she wasn’t so sure about. On his own, Jaime was an honorable man, but you put his sister in the mix, and Brienne wouldn’t be able to judge how he would react in a situation.   
  
Tormund nodded thoughtfully and said, “Tell him if you have no other choice.” Then, to give her time to get herself in order, he took her hand, leading her to the back stairs that would take them back to his room above the bar. Perhaps some clothes would help her feel more like herself. She didn’t say anything, she just allowed him to guide her upstairs.   
  


********

  
  
  
Jaime didn’t attempt to follow her. He’d already learned that lesson. The last time she’d stormed off, he’d done the stupid thing and tried to stop her. That earned him a fist to the face. Instead, he let her go, and picked up the tablet to see what had gotten such a visceral reaction from her. The picture was horrifying, and it made him cringe, but it didn’t make him want to run off like Brienne had. Jaime knew her well enough to know she was covering something up.  
  
Cersei huffed. “Well, I didn’t think she was that temperamental.” Getting up, she went over to her brother and looked over his shoulder. The image, to her was grisly, but life as a Lannister had taught her to be strong and not react to something as trivial as other people dying. “This is what made her run off?”  
  
“No, something else did,” Jaime answered. Before she came back, he scrolled through more of the document, looking for more pictures, but he found none. He’d have to wait for her to come back. Then something caught his eye in the body of text from Selmy. It was a breakdown of numbers of the King’s Guard as well as the number of men in the Night’s Watch. The numbers weren’t inspiring, nor was their combined number.

  
  
  
*******  


  
  
Upstairs, Brienne blindly reached for her pants when she noticed her phone was blinking with a message. Dropping the worn black leather, she went over to the nightstand and picked up the cell. She unlocked it and saw it was a text from her cousin, Daenerys. It simply said: Call me. So, she did. The line rang a few times and when the call connected, she asked, “How do you always know?”

_“We’re family and we’re dragons. I had a feeling, this tightness in my chest, and I knew you might need to talk.”_

Brienne sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and said, “It’s not so much I need to talk, it’s more like I want to ask you something I’ve never asked before.”  It was something that had been on her mind since she was a child but had no one to ask other than her mother. Rhaena Targaryen always told her to keep her dragon heritage a secret, to tell no one as no one would truly understand it. For the longest time, Brienne had listened, because publicly, the last dragon had died when Rhaegar fell in battle. 

_“Don’t keep me in suspense, cousin. Ask me whatever you want.”_  

Brienne sighed, glancing at Tormund. He was sitting in the chair again, watching her curiously as he listened to her side of the conversation. For a moment, she thought she might switch to Valyrian, but decided against it. She already told him what she was.  “What does it feel like when you’re engulfed in flames?” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

_“It’s like being surrounded by a hot desert wind. When I walked into Drogo’s funeral pyre, the flames were blinding, it was hard to breathe but I felt no pain. Why?”_  

“No reason,” Brienne said automatically. She’d always been curious, ever since scalding water hit her arm and there had been no pain. Then, last night, she’d stuck her hand in the fire and felt nothing.

_“Brienne, are you in trouble?”_

“I’m not,” Brienne answered softly. In the background on the other end of the call, she could hear Missandei speaking to someone. “Am I keeping you away from something important?” 

_“Not at all. My offer still stands, just so you know. You’d be more than welcome in Meereen and you wouldn’t have to hide what you are.”_

Brienne chuckled, smiling even though her cousin couldn’t see it. “I would love that, but, believe it or not, I’m happy in Westeros.” When she said that, she was looking at Tormund. 

_“That makes one Targaryen.”_

Brienne laughed lightly, but she promised, “One of these days, I will turn up on your doorstep in Meereen.”

_“I’ll hold you to that.”_

“I know you will,” Brienne said, nodding her head. “Look, I have to go, and I know you’re busy ruling in the East.” Daenerys said her farewell’s and Brienne ended the call. She felt better after speaking to her cousin, as she always did even though they didn’t speak often enough. Brienne set her phone back on the nightstand. One dragon to another, Daenerys knew how to answer Brienne’s questions without leaving her too confused.  If she wanted to know what it was like, Brienne knew she would have to experience it for herself. And that kind of scared her. 

“Who was that?” Tormund asked after she got off the phone. 

“My cousin, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen,” Brienne answered.

“Does she not live here?” Tormund inquired.

“No, she was born here, but she left to live in the East,” Brienne answered in a roundabout way. When there was more time, she would tell him everything he wanted to know about her, about her family. “If she had any designs on coming back, she could claim the Iron Throne, but she did the smart thing and decided to stay in Meereen.” 

“Sounds like it,” Tormund replied neutrally, but with a small smirk on his face.

Brienne got up and returned to his lap as he sat in the chair that was still by the fireplace.  “Yeah, that throne is a curse on my family,” she said and stressed the word ‘curse’. It drove every Targaryen who sat on it insane. Rather than talk about it any further, she kissed him sweetly letting the taste of him ground her.  She was trying to put off going downstairs, put off facing Jaime and the questions he had that she didn’t want to answer.  She might have to push Jaime away in the only way he knew how; use her anger.

 

 

******

 

Jaime had been avidly watching the kitchen door, working up to bursting in and getting her to come out when footsteps behind him drew his attention. Brienne had come back, but this time she was dressed in her favorite pair of leather pants, and a black t-shirt bearing the emblem of her combined sigil; the sun and the three headed dragon. She had a determined look on her face as she came back to the table and retrieved the tablet. Without so much as a word to him, she dropped into the chair, flung her right left over the arm rest, and continued to read the messages. It was often that Brienne was mad at him, but when she was, Jaime knew it was best to let that Targaryen temper of hers fade away on its own.   
  
Cersei sat back in her seat, eyeing the other woman. Brienne’s face had closed down as she continued to read. It baffled her that her brother willingly worked with her, and not just because she was a part of one of the most hated families in Westeros. For her, Brienne’s family name was enough for Cersei to despise the other woman. “At least you’re dressed properly this time,” she commented harshly.   
  
Brienne stopped reading, leveled her gaze with the Queen and stated clearly, “Go fuck yourself.” In this day and age, Cersei being the Queen barely meant anything. To Brienne, Cersei was just Robert Baratheon’s wife and Jaime Lannister’s lover.  
  
“Brienne!” Jaime shouted.  
  
“How dare you speak to me in such a way!” Cersei exploded, shooting out of her chair.  
  
“Then stop provoking me,” Brienne said blithely and then went back to reading. Without looking up at the red face of Queen Cersei Lannister, she continued to speak, “Need I remind you, the two of you came here and barged in on my down time, so, you lost the right to be outraged by anything I say.” Her voice was neutral, and it was controlled. That was a sure sign her tongue would have plenty of scathing insults ready to deliver should they be needed.   
  
Jaime had had enough. He slammed his left hand down on the table, “Would you two stop it!” Cersei was being unnecessarily rude, and Brienne was falling for it. He couldn’t understand why his partner was allowing herself to be so easily goaded, though.   
  
“Then maybe you and your jealous ass sister should have stayed home,” Brienne remarked with a roll of her eyes. If she could make them mad enough, she hoped Cersei would storm off and Jaime would chase after her. It was the only thing she could think of to make them leave. This way, she and Tormund would be free and clear to travel North. She made up her mind the moment she saw that picture in the messages. Even though she was sure Tormund could handle anything the North threw at him, the mark on his chest was a magical lo-jack. She was the only one who could remove it. He would be a target the moment he set foot beyond the wall and she wouldn’t let him be alone when that happened.   
  
“You’re going to have to get a lot nastier if you want to push me away,” Jaime replied knowingly. The last time they had gotten into a fight, it had devolved in a fist fight. Her eye had gotten black and his lips had been busted open as well as his nose being bloodied.   
  
“Fuck,” Brienne snarled. Over by the stairs, Tormund covered up his laugh with a cough. “There are some days I really hate you,” she said, this time her voice was easy and joking.   
  
“You only hate that you can’t drive me away with your temper,” Jaime replied, giving her one of his dazzling smiles that he knew irritated her.  
  
“The only way I’d ever be free of you was if you died,” Brienne remarked with a broad smile.  
  
“Why do you have to be so hurtful?” Jaime asked in mock pain, splaying his left hand over his chest, his fingers spread wide.  
  
“You told me to get nastier,” Brienne replied and smirked. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her anger going at Jaime. He was a jerk most of the time, but with her, he was a passable human being. He was one of the few people that accepted her despite her family. And she did the same for him. She didn’t care that he was a Lannister. They were friends.  
  
“And you listened,” Jaime exclaimed, laughter coloring his words. Soon, she too started to laugh.   
  
“You can’t be serious?!” Cersei exclaimed drawing her brother’s attention. “She disrespects me in such a way and what…? You’re going to let it go because she wasn’t serious?”  
  
Jaime pulled the Rover keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “Go. If you can’t be civilized and hold your tongue, then just go.” When she stayed, rooted to the spot, he went to her, his hands going to her face. Then he whispered, “I love you, I do, but Brienne is a part of my life, and you have to accept that.” He didn’t care that Brienne was witnessing this. He just needed his sister to understand and stop being so territorial. Jaime was never going to leave her. That was her one fear.  
  
Brienne went over to stand with Tormund, who was still by the stairs. She leaned on the railing and whispered, “So much for driving him away.” With her body blocking him, she brought her hand up, placing it on his chest, over where the ice brand was.  
  
Tormund’s hands rested on her hips as he replied, “He’s too good of a friend, and he cares about you, I can see that.” Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her brow. He felt her forehead crinkle in response as she smiled. Time was running out for him. If the Lannister wouldn’t leave, then Tormund would have no choice to reveal his secret to the other man.

TBC....


	4. Chapter 4

THREE YEARS AGO:

 

Tormund had been running full out since the night before; his lungs burned, and his legs were numb. The only thing keeping him moving was his adrenaline. When he thought he couldn’t go one more step, he forced himself to take three. He hadn’t thought the White Walkers would come after him, but he’d been terribly wrong about that. The mark on his chest it made him easier to track. Tormund had to get away from his people, from his family, before they were absorbed into the army of the dead. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was he had to get away. The harsh conditions of the North had hardened him to a lot of things, but seeing the dead rise, seeing the White Walkers in front of him had chilled him to the core.

Tormund wasn’t looking where he was going. He stepped wrong and that misstep sent him tumbling down a rocky snow-covered slope. It felt like he was falling forever, rocks beating his body and leaving little cuts on his face. And then he crashed into something else; a human body. They hit the ice and skidded apart. The back of Tormund’s head collided with a mound of frozen now, pain exploded behind his eyes, but it didn’t keep him down. He surged to his feet, wiping away the blood on his face, trying to keep it out of his eyes. His left hand reached for the sword at his side.

Jon Snow had been scouting beyond the wall of Castle Black when he caught sight of a lone Wildling running for his life. He had started moving on a path that would intercept the man, what he hadn’t counted on, was colliding with him and tumbling down a rocky incline. His shoulder crashed into a boulder and he felt something tear. Jon had to get to his feet and be prepared for an attack. “Wait, wait, wait!” he shouted, holding his hands up, showing that he wasn’t going for his weapon. 

Of all the people Tormund could have run into, he had to run smack dab into a Crow. He could barely talk, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe through the ice in his lungs. So, he scowled in the most menacing way possible. The Crow wasn’t buying it. 

Jon saw the blood, knowing that that was just the beginning of the Wildling’s injuries. Hundreds of years ago, a brother of the Night’s Watch would have killed a Wildling on sight, but not today. Now, the brothers in black coexisted somewhat peacefully with the Free Folk – somewhat. “You need some medical attention,” he stated. “I can get you help.”

Tormund had fought as hard as he could to stay on his feet, but the adrenaline was fading, and he was losing the ability to stay standing. He dropped to the snow-covered ground.

Jon went over to the other man, despite the pain in his left shoulder. He knelt down and said, “I’m Jon.” 

Tormund coughed, his eyes barely able to stay open, but he found enough breath to speak. “I’m Tormund.” He didn’t have the luxury of turning away help, even if it was coming from a Crow.

 

PRESENT:

 

Tormund hit the send button on his phone, texting a message to Jon. He hoped his Crow friend wasn’t beyond the wall. If he was, then Tormund wouldn’t be able to reach him. The true North was a dead zone for most technology. They had basic solar powered lights and heat, but wireless signals were impossible. While he waited for a reply, he turned his attention back to Brienne. She was back to reading, pacing, and muttering to herself. Jaime was speaking softly, albeit heatedly, with the blonde woman that had come with him. Just as he was about to go to Brienne, his phone buzzed, telling him he had a message. 

Will meet you on the road to East watch.

Clipped and cryptic. Tormund expected nothing less from his friend. The real North had been harsh to Jon Snow in more ways than one. Jon had taken up with one of Tormund’s clan; Ygritte. At one time, he thought Jon would stay North with her, but she had been murdered by one of the White Walkers. For a while, Tormund thought Jon would look for ways to die himself rather than face the pain of living without her. Tormund helped as best he could, but there was no soothing the hurt of a lost love.

Brienne had started to lose herself in the body of texts while she paced back and forth. Moving helped to dispel the nervous energy she’d built up. Even though Tormund had told her it was all right to reveal that he was from beyond the wall, she still felt squeamish about it. He told her his secret while they were both naked. That was something she shouldn’t divulge to anyone, let alone Jaime Lannister. She trusted her partner, but everyone in the Seven Kingdoms hated the Free Folk – Wildlings – as much as they hated Targaryen’s. 

Tormund went over to her, catching her before she could turn. Lightly, he kissed her shirt covered shoulder, slipping his arms around her waist and said, “I’m going to go upstairs and pack a bag. We should leave soon.”

“From the messages, the best place for us to go is East Watch by the sea.” Brienne replied, leaning back into him. Normally, she wouldn’t let any man brazenly hold her in such a manner, but he wasn’t a normal man. 

“It’s near Hardhome,” Tormund responded and then pulled away. 

“What’s Hardhome?” Cersei asked.

“It’s a Free Folk settlement,” Tormund replied, looking at her. The woman was a curious one; same blonde hair, same calculating eyes, and same family name. It didn’t take a genius to see that Jaime was related to the woman he treated like a lover. Though, Tormund was smart enough not to comment on it. Who was he to judge? He had some questionable liaisons in his past. 

“Free folk?” Cersei inquired, her lip curling in disgust. 

Jaime answered her, “He means ‘Wildling’.”

Tormund growled, “No, I mean Free Folk.” He knew what Southerners thought about his people. They were violent barbarians that wanted nothing more than kill innocent people.

Brienne stepped between them getting Tormund to look at her. “Go, pack a bag, I’ll handle this.” She had to get him and Jaime out of the same room before something was said that couldn’t be taken back – more than likely coming from her mouth. 

Tormund nodded, knowing that he could trust her, and he didn’t trust a great many people. “I won’t be long,” he replied and reluctantly backed away. 

Brienne waited until he was up the steps before she said to Jaime, “He doesn’t like that word.” Frankly, neither did she. It was demeaning to who he was as a person. 

“Why?” Jaime asked, arching his right eyebrow. “It’s what they are beyond the wall. Wild men who can’t live within the bounds of normal society.” It was what everyone in the Seven Kingdoms had been taught. 

“Then, you’re an idiot if you believe that about all of them,” Brienne stated. “Tormund is one of the Free Folk.” There, she said it. She gave away his secret, even though she told him she didn’t want to. Tormund wouldn’t be angry at her. He would smile and shrug it off. After all, he’d given her leave to tell her partner. Still, she had this horrible taste in her mouth from betraying him.

“He’s a savage,” Jaime snarled. “What’re you thinking? Do you enjoy being the outsider?” He couldn’t understand her sometimes. It was like she did everything she could to sabotage herself in the eyes of others. 

“She’s a Targaryen Jaime, she can’t help herself,” Cersei cut in, standing by her brother, her hands on her hips. 

“That’s right, I can’t help myself. Only one group of people are more hated than my family, and it’s the Free Folk. So, why shouldn’t I take up with one of them? At least he understands the instant dislike people take to us.” Brienne glared at Cersei. She was from a family that engendered fear and respect because of their army and wealth. 

“It’s the same old story with you. ‘Everyone hates me.’ Why must you resort to that at every turn?” Jaime asked heatedly.

Brienne glanced at him. “It’s a default setting,” she said quickly. Then she sighed. “He has daughters and they could be in danger right now, as well as his sister. I’m going up North with him, so I can help.” She was trying to sidestep the fact that they were going to potentially go up against White Walkers in the process. “What would you risk for your children?” she asked before she thought not to. 

Jaime took a step back then. To Brienne that was an innocent hypothetical question. To him it was another link in a chain that bound him and Cersei together in this life. “I would do anything,” he answered in a harsh whisper. 

“Why do you care?” Cersei asked without any attitude or veiled insults. She truly wanted to know. In the short time she had known the woman, she hadn’t liked her. Yes, it was due in large part to her family, but it was also the way she acted with Jaime, so free and friendly. He never heard him laugh in such a way like he did when he was joking with Brienne. 

“Because, I do,” Brienne answered. It was the only explanation she had at the moment. She was frightened of labeling the emotions she felt for him until she was sure they were going somewhere. Truth be told, she was tired of a strong of one-night stands with men – occasionally with women in the mix – that only were with her to satisfy their curiosity about her. It was getting boring and predictable. 

“That much is clear,” Cersei responded silently. 

Brienne shook her head trying to find a way to get Jaime and Cersei to leave. Her partner was annoyingly loyal to a point she wanted to beat him over the head sometimes. If he thought she was in serious danger, he wouldn’t leave her alone. It was a stretch to get him to accept her having fun with a man he would term a ‘savage’. She couldn’t try to convince him that they were going for any other reason than to get his children and his sister. Jaime didn’t need to know the White Walkers were real. “You should take your sister home,” she said finally. 

“And let you do something stupid all alone? Not a chance,” Jaime said staunchly. They may argue, and he may get mad at her, but if she was heading into danger, then he was going to be right there with her. No matter what the danger was. 

“Jaime be serious,” Cersei scolded him. 

“You have the keys to the Rover. Go home or go to Winterfell,” Jaime said to his sister.

“Maybe I will,” Cersei claimed defiantly. She pulled the keys from her pocket and headed towards the door half expecting Jaime to stop her. He didn’t. That was fine with her. The stupidest Lannister could get himself killed for all she cared. Cersei pushed open the door and didn’t stop walking until she got in the Rover, turned the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot. She didn’t know where she was going yet.

Inside, Jaime watched the door, waiting for Cersei to come back through it, but the moment he heard the roar of the Rover engine, he knew she was leaving. It was always interesting playing chicken with his sister. Usually, he was the one to buckle and give her what she wanted. This time, however, he couldn’t. Brienne life was potentially on the line as she was being foolish and risking her life for a man she’d only just met. A Wildling at that. He would be a terrible partner if he let her go alone because he didn’t like the guy she was having sex with.

 

*******

 

An hour later, Brienne was behind the wheel of the Rover with the disabled GPS. On a day like today, the road was open and there were no other vehicles out and about. Tormund was in the front passenger seat, texting. He was making arrangements with a friend to meet them and bring more supplies for their trip North now that they had an extra person in tow. Jaime sat in the back – pouting. Brienne couldn’t call it brooding. He was pouting because she wasn’t talking to him at the moment. She hadn’t forgiven him yet for calling Tormund a savage.

“Keep heading in this direction, Jon will meet us at the first abandoned village,” Tormund told Brienne, putting his phone away. Three years ago, he made the choice to run for his life, leaving his life and his children behind so they would be safe. He spent a year at Castle Black learning the fundamentals of life down South, then for two years he lived and worked in the bar, while helping Jon, and Mormont, funnel his people out of the North. The three people he wanted to save had vanished. Osha was adept at hiding. It was why he entrusted the life of his daughters to her. Meeting Brienne had changed things for him. 

Brienne glanced over at him for a split second to see his face had transformed from anxious to worried. She placed her right hand on his left knee and squeezed gently, silently giving him comfort and support. His hand covered hers, slipping his fingers between hers to give her a squeeze in return. He didn’t let her hand go, he kept ahold of it and she let him. Tormund needed the touch of her skin against his. “We’ll find them, and they’ll be fine,” she said, hoping he believed her.

Tormund nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment to reply to her. Up North, he had to be in control of his emotions, and right now, thinking about his family, he was anything but in control. So, by way of responding, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to her palm. It wasn’t often he was silent, but he could tell she wasn’t going to make him talk if he wasn’t up to it. 

Brienne kept her hand in his and drove letting the silence permeate the Rover. Normally such quiet would bother her, but she did nothing to break it. The three of them were driving towards an abandoned Night’s Watch castle to journey beyond the wall and walk right into certain danger. And she was planning to tap into her dragon nature despite swearing to her mother that she would leave the beast lie. ‘Women do crazy things for men…’ she thought as she turned the wheel, taking a bend in the road.

Jaime was slouched in the back seat, staring out the window at the passing landscape. The wide-open plains were giving way to hills, and soon they would be coming to an abandoned village that was left over from a bygone era when solar power didn’t exist or indoor plumbing. Though, some of the old technology was still employed today, with a few refinements. Horses were still the predominant mode of transportation, and Jaime could admit to enjoying having a powerful stallion to ride across the open landscape of his home. Rather than being left alone with his thoughts any longer, he asked, “What happens when this ‘friend’ of yours doesn’t show up?”

“He’ll be there,” Tormund grumbled. 

“Yeah, but how do you know?” Jaime pressed on. 

“When Jon Snow gives his word, he keeps it.” Tormund was starting to feel the first stirrings of irritation for the blond that had tagged along with them.

“Jon Snow? Ned Stark’s bastard?” Jaime furrowed his brow. Odd to have a nobleman’s son cross the path of a Wildling.

“Snow joined the Night’s Watch four years ago after that visit to Winterfell,” Brienne reminded Jaime, flicking a glance at him in the Rover’s rear-view mirror. 

“Oh, yes, that’s right…” Jaime remembered. “Wasn’t his name mentioned a few times in the texts between Selmy and Mormont?”

“A few times,” Brienne replied. She started to slow down as the Rover approached the first outcropping of old buildings. At first, to her eyes, there was no sight of anyone. Then movement caught her eye and almost at the exact same time, Tormund was out of the vehicle and running towards the two people materializing out of the shadows. She stayed where she was, watching him pick up his young daughter. It made her heart happy and hurt at the same time. Only one child accompanied the older woman.

Tormund picked up his little Bryn, holding her tight. The hole that had been in his heart started to fill in a little bit. His eyes tracked to his sister, Osha, trying not to jump right into the obvious. He wanted to savor this moment with his daughter. He turned slightly so he could glance back at the SUV, looking for Brienne. 

In the Rover, Jaime leaned forward, wedging himself between the open space of the two front seats. “I’m noticing the lack of a black wearing Night’s Watch man,” he commented sarcastically. She only looked at him with a reproachful purse to her lips.

Brienne saw Tormund turn towards them, looking right at her. His gaze called to her, showing her how much he needed her. “Stay here,” she said to Jaime, “you’ll only make things awkward.” Then, she was pushing the door open and setting foot out into the chilly air. Her skin registered the change in temperature, but she wasn’t affected by it. 

The door closed before Jaime could reply. Then, he muttered to himself, “The least you could do was roll down a window.”

Tormund set his daughter down reluctantly as Brienne approached. Little Bryn shied away from her. His dragon lover wasn’t looking at him, she had her eyes on his daughter with a gentle albeit a hesitant one. “Bryn, this is Brie,” he spoke softly and lovingly to put his daughter and Brienne at ease. 

Brienne didn’t have much experience with kids, but she did know to crouch down to their level to put them at ease. So, that’s what she did. Kneeling in the cold grass, she held out her hand and said, “Hi.” She didn’t make any sudden movements or offer her hands to Bryn. “I’m friends with your dad.” 

Tormund smiled at Brienne as Bryn hid her face against his side. “She’s a little shy,” he told his lover. His little Bryn had always been a sensitive soul even in a harsh winter lander beyond the wall. “I have to speak to Osha, will you…?”

“Of course, I’ll win this little one over with my charm,” Brienne said, joking, and giving her a little wink when she glanced at him. First hurdle handled. Bryn looked at her and grinned. The little girl took a step away from her father and towards her. Another hurdle conquered. 

‘Thank you,’ Tormund mouthed. Brienne winked at him. He felt better about going to talk to his sister. Gripping her upper her, he tugged her away from Brienne and Bryn so neither one would hear his voice change. “Where is Misha?”

“We got separated during a snowstorm,” Osha replied quickly, glaring at Tormund’s hand gripping her arm. “One minute she was with me, the next…gone.”

“And you left her?” Tormund snarled. 

“She knows to go to the caves,” Osha hissed in return. Near their old village were a system of caves with a natural hot spring. It was the one place she and her brother always knew to find each other. “I had Bryn to worry about. At least Misha can take care of herself and knows how to survive.” 

Tormund let go of Osha, knowing his sister was right. It still didn’t make his anger die down. “How did you now to come here?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Brienne and Bryn. His little ginger girl had edged closer, but still kept just out of reach of Brienne. 

“Jon Snow found us. He’s gone after Misha with that Dire Wolf of his.” Osha rubbed at her arm.

Tormund nodded. With Jon moving fast, and with his wolf in tow, he would make it to the caves, and be waiting for them when they arrived. They would have to move fast as well. “You and Bryn stay on this side of the wall. I want you to follow this road until you come to a bar called Whispering Woods. When you do, go inside, lock the door, and stay there. You’ll be safe.”

Osha wouldn’t talk him out of it, and she wouldn’t demand to go with him. “Don’t stay in the North any longer than you have to.”

Tormund gripped the back of her neck, pulling her close, pressing his forehead to hers. “Be safe, and don’t be seen.” Then he gently pushed her away, nudging her to get going.

Brienne kept Bryn’s attention on her. “Do you want see something cool?” she asked, pulling her badge out of her pocket, holding it out to her. She could see Bryn wanted to reach for it, but the suspicion in her gaze kept her hands at her sides. Brienne smirked. “Here, you hold on to this for me, and if anyone stops you, you pull this out, and say ‘Back off. My friend is a Targaryen.’ It’ll make them think twice.” This time Bryn smiled at her, and it matched the one her father had. Brienne’s grin grew wider when the little girl accepted the badge from her. Then her attention was drawn to Tormund and his sister walking over.

“What have you got there, little lady?” Osha asked in a loving, inquisitive tone, kneeling down next to her niece as the other woman stood up. Bryn didn’t answer. She just kept staring at the red three headed dragon. 

Brienne said, “If anyone stops, just show them that and tell them you’re traveling South under orders from Commander Brienne Targaryen. Show them this badge and just keep going. No one should question you.”

“What’s a bit of silver going to do?” Osha asked, eyeing it in a disapproving manner. 

“Osha…” Tormund drew out her name. 

“I’m a King’s Guard. My name is known in the South and no one would do anything to risk the wrath of a Targaryen.” Brienne wanted to do all she could for Tormund’s family, to help keep them safe. 

“You can believe her,” Tormund said.

 

*******

 

It took some doing, but Tormund managed to get his sister to head down the road with little Bryn. Brienne could see that his heart broke having to send them away, but it was for the best. They stashed the Rover in one of the least damaged building and got their bags from the back. Brienne didn’t speak as she secured the belt to her waist, making sure her sword was in the right spot for easy access resting on her left hip. She had just sheathed her dagger when she noticed Jaime looking at her. “What?” she asked, arching her left eyebrow at him.

“You’re gearing up for a battle,” Jaime pointed out, leaving against the open hatch of the Rover.

“We’ll need weapons beyond the wall,” Brienne replied with a nonchalant shrug. She had avoided telling him about the White Walkers this long, she was hoping she could continue to put it off.

“Why?” Jaime asked, crossing his arms. He wasn’t going to move and inch until she told him what they were really doing. Saving the life of one child seemed beneath Brienne’s station as a Commander. Especially, since that child was a Wildling. It was strange to him to see her care so deeply for something that didn’t involve her fighting, drinking, or causing general mayhem. 

“I already told you,” Brienne answered, not looking at him. She wanted to keep putting off this conversation for as long as she could. When it came right down to it, she wasn’t sure he would believe her from her words alone, that he would want solid evidence.

“Not the complete truth,” Jaime said testily, slamming the hatch door. “I’m your partner, so stop lying to me.” Most of the time he could let it go, as she usually fibbed about small things. This, however, was not a small thing. She was keeping a monumental secret from him and it had the potential to get him killed. 

Brienne looked at him for a moment and honestly debated lying… again. Except Jaime was stubborn and when he dug his heels in, he wouldn’t back down. She inhaled deeply, held her breath for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “Back at the tavern, I had a visceral reaction that that image because I’d already seen something similar. Tormund has a frozen spiral brand on his chest. A White Walker did it to him.” She spoke carefully, barely holding eye contact with him because she knew how she sounded. Crazy. No one in the South believed the old stories, not even though there was proof of the existence of the dead in cave paintings found on Dragonstone. 

For long, drawn out seconds, Jaime said nothing to her. “You’re not making this up, are you?” he asked. There was a small trace of fear in her eyes, mixing with the honesty of her words. One thing he knew about Brienne was when she was telling the truth and when she was lying. And this, she wholeheartedly believed what she was telling him. 

“No, and neither is Joer Mormont. He saw them beyond the wall at the Fist of the First Men. It was what he and Selmy were talking about and why Lord Commander Mormont sounded so afraid in his texts.” Brienne leaned back against the back of the Rover, slumping her shoulders. It was a rare thing to have someone believe her without proof, and Jaime was that person. That was one of the many reasons they worked so well together. 

Tormund had finally seen Osha off, promising Bryn that he would return. He strode over to the building Brienne had driven into to find her and her partner silent. “You told him?” he asked, looking at his dragon. She only nodded. Whatever occurred between them had the power to render her mute, closed off. Stepping in close to her, he put his hand on her hip trying to get her to look him in the eye. She placed her right hand – the hand she had stuck in the fire only a few days ago – against his abdomen, pushing lightly. It was her way of telling him they would talk later.

“So, we’re going on a wild goose chase?” Jaime asked finally, having let the silence stretch out long enough between them.

Brienne scoffed, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I believe that you believe what you’re saying,” Jaime said moving away from the Rover. “And without proof.” 

“Then go home, Jaime. I’ll do this without you,” Brienne stated firmly, feeling disappointed so intense that it made her angry. 

“Do you think I would abandon you that easily?” Jaime snapped. No matter what crazy stunt she pulled, how inconvenient her shooting her mouth of could be, he couldn’t imagine abandoning her.

“I think sometimes you want to, just to be done with me!” Brienne raged. As strong as their partnership was, she always feared he would find that one flaw in the character that made him give up on her. 

Jaime waved off her words. “Those are just your insecurities talking, your own crazy abandonment issues.” Each time she got like this he had a certain part to play in her little emotional drama. Jaime would act like it was no big deal, he would berate her for her craziness, she would get angry, and then in the morning, she would be back to normal. It was harsh when seen by others, but it was how Jaime knew to handle Brienne when she was like this. 

“Can you blame me?!” Brienne shouted and then issued a short growl. Jaime hadn’t been the only Lannister to murder members of her family. Tywin had been responsible for the murder of her mother Rhaena, as well as ordered the deaths of Rhaegar’s wife and children. It was by shear happenstance that she and her father escaped death sentences. They were away from Westeros at the time. Brienne had wanted to see Volantis and while they had been away her family had been decimated. She didn’t want Jaime to turn on her, to feel she had lost her mind and had to stop in the only way a Targaryen could be stopped; with death. 

Tormund stepped between them, his back to Brienne, and his face conveying to the other man they didn’t have time for this, even though it seemed as this fight had been coming between them for a long while. “Every moment you two spend picking away at each other, I lose daylight and the ability to catch up to Jon.” Then to Jaime he said, “Either you stick with us, or you turn around and run home.” 

“I’m a Lannister, I don’t run,” Jaime snarled at Tormund.

“Good.” Tormund turned to Brienne; his look was less than pleased. She didn’t argue, she didn’t make a sarcastic comment. She picked up her bag and waited. He knew whatever it was that was swirling around in her head wasn’t pleasant, but at the moment, he didn’t have the time to ask her about it. They would soon be beyond the Wall, and he needed to focus on moving quickly and carefully. When he walked by her, she caught his hand, squeezing, and then let him go. Some of his dread went away from that simple touch.

Brienne hefted the strap of her duffle, settling it on her shoulder. She gave one more look to Jaime and he nodded, silently saying he was still coming with her. It wasn’t often they argued, and it wasn’t often that she let her inner demons get the best of her. After her explosive outbursts or her meltdowns, he would say softly to her, “I’ll always have your back.” He would pat her on the shoulder, and she knew they were good again. Though, if what she was planning up North had to be enacted, then she would have to wait and see if Jaime saw her the same way ever again. 

As silently as she had, Jaime picked up his bag and followed after her. Brienne was difficult, stubborn, and sometimes she could be a pain in his ass, but through it all he always had her back and he always would. They had everything they needed for a sustainable relationship without worrying about more. It was this bond between them that had him sticking with her rather than going home, going back to Cersei. Plus, a part of him was tagging along to see if the White Walkers were real. He always did wonder, even with the evidence the cave paintings offered as proof. Now, he was going to get the chance to see for himself.

TBC....


	5. Chapter 5

Brienne trudged through the snow following the tracks Tormund had set. He was some yards ahead of them, moving fast. Fading in the distance behind them was the castle of East Watch. Once inside the crumbling keep, they had layered up in furs that the Free Folk used to blend into the scenery beyond the Wall. She hadn’t wanted to get bundled up, at first, because the cold weather barely affected her. She could tell it was freezing, but she couldn’t feel it. Though, one look at Jaime pulling on the oversized patch work fur jacket had her changing her mind. Once they were suitably clothed, they set off. 

Jaime, on the flip side, was freezing straight through to his bones. He’d never been this cold in his life, not even when winter was upon them. This was a different sort of cold all together. “How do they live up here?” he asked, picking up the pace, so he could half walk half jog beside Brienne. 

“They adapted,” Brienne responded, sounding a little winded. Her eyes never left Tormund’s back. She had to keep him in sight at all times lest she lose him in low light. Even though the sun was setting, she knew he wasn’t going to stop until he reached his destination. 

“Are you cold?” Jaime asked. Since setting out, Brienne had barely broken her stride or complained about the temperature. In fact, she’d hardly spoken.

“Freezing…” Brienne replied and lengthened her stride. They couldn’t fall too far behind. Tormund was the only one who knew where they were going, and a storm was brewing on the horizon. “Come on, we got to catch up!” she shouted over the rising wind.

Jaime didn’t respond, he just picked up the pace. At least he was getting his days exercise in. His lungs started to burn moments later. However, he muscled through it, catching up to Brienne as they tried to close the distance between them and their Wildling guide.

Tormund paused to get his bearings. In the three years since the last time he was traversing the landscape, things had changed slightly. “Fuck…” he grumbled. Being in the South had softened him more than he realized; his instincts were dull. The worry was making him stupid and reckless and the pace he was setting was too hard for him to keep up. If he was alone, he would have pushed the thoughts of pain aside and just kept going, but he had Brienne and Jaime in tow. 

Brienne became worried when Tormund stopped. She placed her hand on his shoulder, asking, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Tormund replied. “I’m just getting my bearings. The storm kicking up is going to be tricky though. If we’re out here when it hits, we’ll be screwed.” 

“It’s your call,” Brienne said softly. She looked around, seeing a tree line that might offer them safety from the coming storm. It would extend their stay and put him at more risk of being found by the White Walkers.

Tormund placed his hand over the ice burn on his chest. Being back North made it come alive, letting him feel the White Walkers were drawing closer. If they stopped, he would be risking Brienne’s life. If they kept moving, they would risk getting lost in the snow. Even before his sojourn South, he knew better than to travel during a storm. 

Brienne stepped in close to him and whispered, “I know you’re worried about your girl.” 

“I am,” Tormund confirmed. “But, it’s no excuse to put us all in danger. We head into the tree’s, maybe find an abandoned lodge to use as shelter. I can’t save her if I’m dead.” The words were like bile on his tongue.

“Then we stop for the night,” Brienne said, glancing over at Jaime. He was dancing around like he had ants in his pants. Getting warm was never a pretty sight to witness.

“You sure?” Jaime asked. He cupped his hands over his mouth, blowing hot air into them. They could do with a fire and some rest. 

“Unless you want to keep going?” Tormund challenged wryly.

“I can’t feel any of my extremities, and I mean any of them,” Jaime replied, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. 

“Poor baby,” Brienne commented sarcastically, but added a wink to let him know she was joking. They were back to even footing with each other now. Her insecurities had settled back down to the recesses of her subconscious, giving her some small measure of peace. 

Tormund shook his head and set off towards the tree line. If memory served him there would be some form of shelter they might use for the night. At least, he hoped there was still some form of standing building. He’d been too long in the South with soft beds, solar power, and no dead things coming after him. 

 

******

 

They made it to a small hunting camp – abandoned now – just as night fell and the first edge of the snowstorm caught up to them. The only building that was still standing was a little shed barely big enough or the three of them, but it would have to do. They would have enough protection from the blustering wind and the falling snow until morning came. Brienne struck a match, setting the flame to the kindling, and letting it build to set the wood ablaze. Jaime was huddled on one side of the shed, curled in the corner, but still close enough to be warmed by the fire. Brienne was opposite him with Tormund sitting next to her. They had all fallen into a silence again.

Before too long, Jaime was asleep, his head resting against the wall. Brienne, on the other hand, was wide awake, mesmerized by the dancing flames. She watched the flickering of the orange, imagining all manner of things; first and foremost, what it would feel like to be engulfed in them. Her mind so distracted, she didn’t noticed Tormund moving, his hand taking hers. The touch of his skin against hers broke the spell the flames had started to weave inside her. “This is the right thing, resting for the night.” She was trying to comfort him, but she didn’t know if she was succeeding.

“But it still feels wrong,” Tormund replied quietly. He pulled her close, getting her to rest her head on his chest as he draped his arm across her back. She was warmer than the fire, chasing away the last tendrils of the ice that had taken root in his bones. 

Brienne sighed, snuggling closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. “You can’t help anyone if you’re dead and made into one of those… things,” she pointed out in a huff. Her arms tightened on him just at the thought of him being taken from her. It made her stomach turn uncomfortably.

There was nothing that could be done, and Tormund had to accept that even though he hated being idle. So, he asked, “How are you still so warm?” Through her clothes, through the furs she had on top of them, he could feel the heat of her more than he could that of the fire. If anything, she felt hotter than she did before. 

Brienne looked at Jaime and was satisfied that he was sound asleep. She sat up, so she could straddle Tormund’s lap. “When cousin Rhaegar discovered that he was a dragon, he traveled to the Citadel, to get his DNA tested by the Maesters. He wanted to know what made him so different.” She stopped speaking as she unfastened the wooden toggles of her borrowed fur coat. After shedding it, she then stripped out of the black leather jacket, and dropped beside them. Her torso was now covered in just a flimsy cotton t-shirt, but she wasn’t cold. Brienne took his hands, placing them on either side of her neck.

Tormund caressed the line of her jaw, the tips of his fingers stealing some of the warmth of her body. His dragon lover was something truly wonderful to behold. He had seen many strange things in his life, but none could compare to her, and that fact was reinforced every hour of the day he was with her. “What makes you a dragon?” he asked, his voice low and careful. 

“I came across the DNA results in some of Rhaegar’s old things that Selmy managed hide away in the King’s Guard keep.” The Lord Commander had thought that one day Brienne would want to know more about her heritage, her family, and the potential gift of her bloodline. “Rhaegar found out that he had an extra pair of chromosomes that weren’t entirely human. In a journal my cousin kept, he said the Maester couldn’t tell him exactly what the extra pair was, he was confident in concluding that it’s what kept him safe from fire. It even gives us different measures of protection. That night, my hand was warmer than the rest of my body.”

“This is why you were able to remove some of the ice burn?” Tormund asked, very much in awe of her.

“Fire melts ice,” Brienne replied quietly. She had never had the courage to go to the Citadel and find the Maestar that had tested her cousin, to get him to do the same tests on her. Rhaegar had recorded in his journal that he was able to hold a flame in his hand, to manipulate it, and to make it so that he could transfer it from hand to hand. The times she had been brave enough, she had found that she retrained the heat of fire in her skin.

From those three words, Tormund was getting the sense that Brienne intended to do something drastic, but because they had another set of ears – sleeping or not – in the shed, he refrained from commenting on it. He wasn’t sure that he was going to stop what she had planning. It would save him, his family, and give his people a fighting chance. “Why are you still so hot, though?” Tormund asked. With her jackets removed, he would have thought she would have started to cool off by now. He slipped his hands down the front of her, holding her sides, feeling every breath she took.

“Just the genetic quirk of my dragon DNA I guess,” Brienne answered with a shrug of her right shoulder. She wasn’t entirely sure why her skin retained heat the way it did. Then, to be playful, she slipped her hands down between them, slipping into the band of his pants.

Tormund growled deeply, loving the warm grip of her hand on his cock. As loath as he was to do this, he asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Sex is distracting, and I think we need to be distracted a little,” Brienne said as she gave him a small stroke.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, but…” Tormund took her hand from him and laced their fingers together. 

Brienne felt a little confused. “Are you worried about Jaime waking up? He sleeps deeply; it’s rather annoying.” She could have a full-fledged fight with the Mountain and Jaime would sleep through it.

“No, I’m not worried about him,” Tormund said in hushed haste. “When I’m with you, inside you, I lose track of everything. Up here, I can’t afford to be distracted.” She nodded, smiling shyly, and moved off of him. Brienne wasn’t acting like herself. Then it dawned on him. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

“Terrified, but not for the reasons you think,” Brienne answered him lightly, her voice quivering. Carrying through with her plan held the potentiality of imploding her whole life in King’s Landing, with the Guard, and fracturing her relationship with Jaime beyond repair. Before Tormund, there had never been a man worth the risk of upsetting her life for. He was worth losing everything.

“Tell me what you’re planning and maybe I can help,” Tormund offered. He caressed her cheek lightly. Seeing her like this was tearing his heart to pieces. He could see she was conflicted and determined all at the same time, but what she had decided to do eluded him.

Brienne opened her mouth, intent upon pouring out the rough outline of her plan, but then she stopped. “All I need you to do, when the time comes, is keep Jaime from trying to save me.”

“But…?”

Brienne covered his mouth her hand and said softly, “I don’t need you trying to save me either.” She lowered her hand and then kissed him to keep his quiet. If they weren’t going to have sex, then she could at least kiss him. She enjoyed the way he could ravish her with just his lips and tongue. 

 

*******

 

Mid-morning came with them slogging their way through the snow. They all had gone back to silence, but it wasn’t awkward like it had been the day before. Their pace was quick, but easier than the hard, desperate trek they had been on yesterday.

Despite the chaotic swirl of emotions of the previous day, Brienne felt lighter. She had given Tormund hints of what she was planning the night before – even after he rebuffed her advances. She understood where he was coming from. They both needed to be clear headed. It might have been a mistake on her part to even try and initiate sex with him given that he had a magical mark on his chest transmitting a signal to generals of death. When she was feeling pressure, she often resorted to sex. It was one of the beasts inside her that she could sate regularly. The other, it demanded the one thing she couldn’t give it, until now. 

Despite the cold, the snow, and the dreary feeling that accompanied the landscape, Jaime could see the allure of living in such a place. He was overcome with a sense of freedom as he moved. If it wasn’t for the cold and the snow, he could see himself liking it up here. There were no expectations of birth, money, or loyalty to family, just to one’s self. Survival was the only thing that had to be thought about up North. He even noticed that Brienne was more settled today and not as erratic as she was yesterday. Jaime picked up the pace, putting himself at her side so he didn’t have to shout when he wanted to talk to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Brienne said with a casual shrug. “Yesterday was just one of my crazy days.” She laughed it off like she usually did whenever he asked about her changes in mood. He’d been around her long enough to know that she could have some serious shifts in her demeanor and do some truly insane things simply because she thought they were good ideas.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Jaime asked, placing his hand on her arm.

“I know,” Brienne answered with a slightly sarcastic arch to her right brow. “Where is all this coming from?” she asked slightly concerned about his motives for wanting to talk.

“I’m just concerned, you were acting a little weird yesterday,” Jaime pointed out.

“Apparently I get a little cranky when I don’t get enough sex,” Brienne joked. “Who knew?”

“Wait? Are you trying to tell me you and the giant ginger over there had sex in that shed last night… with me asleep in the corner?” Jaime was almost shocked. Almost. He wasn’t that exhausted last night. If they had gotten frisky with each other, he would have woken up to that.

“You slept through a good show,” Brienne said, nodding her head, and chuckling wickedly. “At one point, I had his cock halfway down my throat.”

“GAH!!! Why must you tell me those things?” Jaime covered his ears to Brienne’s laughter. 

Brienne pointed at him, laughing loudly. “Your face!”

Tormund joined in on the fun and when Jaime lowered his hands, he said, “Thanks for saying I’m giant, man.” 

“He is, by the way,” Brienne confirmed.

“Stop!” Jaime exclaimed. Still, even though she was telling him things he’d rather not know about the ginger guide, it was good to see her laughing and not indulging her insecurities. 

Brienne stopped laughing and asked, “There? Are you happy now? I’m back to my normal, insubordinate self.”

“I won’t be happy until we’re back down South being warm and drinking a lot,” Jaime replied good naturedly. 

The amusement died inside Brienne as she thought about returning South, about returning to Tarth. She could take Tormund to her home, have his girls and his sister move there and live a life of luxury. As she glanced at his smiling face, she wondered if he would live on an island, live off the wealth left to her by her mother. It was something to consider.

The humor of the moment faded away, at least for Tormund it did. The mark on his chest got colder and it made him hiss in irritation. Automatically, he pressed the tips of his fingers into the burn. The White Walkers were getting closer. “We got to pick up the pace,” he said through clenched teeth.

Brienne went to him, immediately pulling apart the furs and his jacket beneath it so she could get at the burn mark. It was more defined than it had been when she had removed part of it. “Does this mean…?”

“Yeah, they’re getting closer,” Tormund confirmed. Luckily for them, they weren’t far from the network of caves Misha had run to, and where John would have undoubtedly found her.

Jaime looked at the mark Brienne had exposed. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The burn did look like he expected. It looked like ice had been imbedded in the other man’s chest. “Gods…” he muttered. If he thought it wouldn’t get him a punch in the face, he would have reached out to touch it, just to see if it was as cold as he thought it looked. 

“Believe in the White Walkers now?” Brienne asked sarcastically.

“No,” Jaime scoffed, looking away.

“Liar,” Brienne accused good naturedly. 

“Really?” Tormund asked, arching his left eyebrow at her. He took a step back, zipping his jacket, and closing the heavy furs to keep the cold at bay. She just shrugged and shook her head at him. The sooner they got to the caves, the sooner Brienne could enact her plan, and he could be free of this mark. He had to survive whatever Brienne had planned first.

 

*******

Jon Snow had been with the Night’s Watch for close to four years and most of it was spent beyond the Wall. He felt more at home amongst the Free Folk than he did his own people. On one of his missions from the Lord Commander, he was to imbed himself within the ‘Wildling’ society, learn to be one of them, and he had done just that. It brought him one of the best friendships he’d ever come to rely on; Tormund and his family. Then there was Ygritte. The wild, uninhibited woman who became his first love. Then she was taken from him by the Wights. Jon had no idea a heart could break so completely.

Jon kept a look out while the twelve-year-old Misha sat by the fire inside the cave. She had barely spoken ten words to him since he’d caught up to her yesterday. He didn’t push her to tell him what had happened. All he told her was that her sister and aunt were safe and that her father was coming for her. Not even that had put her at ease. Jon wasn’t even sure he’d been comforting enough. The only sister he’d been good with was Arya, and she was off in Bravos learning all sorts of things that would put their father in his grave. 

Off in the distance, Jon saw movement, and caught sight of the tell-tale ginger hair that belonged to his friend. It had been too long since they had last seen each other. Confident that Misha was safe, he set off through the snow to greet Tormund. As he got closer, he saw that two others were with him; two blondes. “Made new friends while you were gone, have you?!” Jon shouted; his words covered with laughter. 

Tormund rushed Jon, tackling him and hugging him at the same time. The Crow held his ground keeping them from going into the snow. Parting quickly, he clapped Jon in the shoulders without needing to say anything. One of the things he missed about the North was Jon Snow. “Where is she?” he finally asked.

“Inside,” Jon answered. His friend didn’t wait for another word. He took off for the cave. 

“Jon Snow, good to see you again,” Brienne said, holding out her hand to the man in black. 

“You as well,” Jon replied, shaking her hand. He remembered her from her visit to Winterfell. The last free roaming Targaryen in Westeros. To her credit, she stayed away from them all after the reception. At the time, he wished he could have done that, but his family wouldn’t let him.

Brienne dropped her hand and waited around for Jon to acknowledge Jaime. When neither of them looked at each other, let alone spoke, she mumbled, “Well, this is awkward.” 

“I had hoped you would’ve at least stayed a day at Winterfell so we could speak,” Jon said. Before joining the Night’s Watch, the man he thought of as his father had told him about his family; his real family. And then at Castle Black he’d met Maester Aemon. Jon hadn’t had the heart to ask the old man about their family. 

“Eh, better I wasn’t there,” Brienne replied with a shrug of her right shoulder. “I was in the local whore house drinking with Tyrion.” It was a better establishment with better company than could be found within the walls of the Stark’s ancestral home.

“You were drinking with me brother at a brothel?” Jaime asked, shocked. That was news to him.

“Oh, yeah,” Brienne answered, giving him a sly wink. “We played that game of his and he found out that you and I slept together.”

“Why do you have to keep bringing that up?” Jaime groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Because, it makes you uncomfortable, and your discomfort is my entertainment,” Brienne replied with a broad grin.

Jon ignored the Lannister and instead spoke to Brienne, changing the subject, “I will admit, I’m a little shocked Tormund brought anyone up here with him.”

“I wasn’t going to let him come up here alone, not with that target on his chest,” Brienne replied seriously. 

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Jon shot back. “He’s been marked by one of them. There’s no getting rid of it.”

“Hmm…” Brienne frowned for show. She knew she could remove the mark, but it would take more heat coursing through her than that from a simple fire. 

 

*******

 

Tormund had convinced Misha to head South with Jon as her guardian, so she could be reunited with her sister and aunt. It killed him to see her in such a state of shock. The horror in her eyes, he knew it all too well. It was from seeing a White Walker. More than anything, his wished he could take that fear from her. To do that, he had to lure as may of the White Walkers to him as he could, and trust Brienne could deal with them. 

Brienne walked without seeing much of the trees and snow around her, but she was mindful of another gathering storm. Tormund had told her about the large building that most of the villagers had used as a communal space. It would serve her needs fine, provided it wasn’t too damaged from years of neglect. 

“How are we even going to kill this supposed White Walker?” Jaime asked as the three of them reached the desolate village. 

“We lure them inside the building and burn it down,” Brienne said pointing to the one in the very center. She just neglected to say that she would be inside. Jaime would pitch a royal fit and then all hell would break loose because he would learn her secret.

“How are we going to lure some fictitious creatures into a building without them sniffing out a trap?” Jaime asked sarcastically. 

“Tormund’s the bait,” Brienne answered without hesitation. She had to have him standing right next to her when the White Walker’s came in the building. They had to see him. It was the only way this trap would work. 

“You’re going to risk your boyfriend like that?” Jaime looked at her skeptically. 

“With what I have planned, it’s not much of a risk to him,” Brienne replied with a wink.

“And that makes me nervous,” Jaime muttered. 

“You worry too much,” Brienne scoffed and headed towards the building. Inside she found Tormund moving barrels around. From the smell it was some sort of fuel. With clean energy used by everyone in the Seven Kingdoms, fossil fuels weren’t really relied upon anymore, except apparently, by those in the North. 

“No! I worry exactly the right amount…. Whoa…” Jaime stopped just inside the building. “This place is already a fire hazard. It wouldn’t take much to turn this place into a tinder box.”

“That’s the general idea,” Tormund grumbled. The mark on his chest was getting colder and colder. “The White Walkers are getting closer,” he said to Brienne. She nodded, moving a few barrels to the center platform. When it was time, the center platform was going to be ground zero for the fire.

“Jaime, move a few barrels to either side of the doors. When the time comes, I’m going to need you to bar the doors, sealing them inside,” Brienne said, looking at her partner. She could trust him to do this.

“If I’m sealing the Ginger Wonder inside, then how’s he going to get out?” Jaime asked as he moved the barrels where Brienne wanted them. He could be sarcastic, insulting, and ask questions all in one breath.

“Hey, Blondie!” Tormund shouted across the large hall. Once he had the other man’s attention, he moved to the back wall and lifted a ratty old fur. There was a door and once he was through it, he would bolt it from the outside giving Brienne the freedom to do what she was planning. 

“Oh… well…” Jaime frowned. He poured a trail from one of the support timbers towards the door and then made a line across the threshold. At least this viscous gel concoction had no smell to it.

Brienne stood in the center of the platform, looking at the open doors. She would have Tormund take her place and she would duck behind the larger containers. This wouldn’t work unless they saw him. “Jaime, head outside and wait, but don’t be seen.” 

“Thanks for that,” Jaime replied sarcastically. I was going to wave a giant lion banner to announce my presence.”

“Smart ass,” Brienne shot back with a wink.

“Crazy bitch,” Jaime returned. He gave her a small, sad smile, and then headed out to watch for the mythical White Walkers. There was sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that Brienne was going to do something extremely reckless.

Brienne waited until Jaime was far enough away before she shed the outer layer of clothing. If all went to plan, then she would need something to wear after the building burned down around her. She then popped the top on one of the smaller containers. Inside, the fuel had the consistency of gel. When she scooped up a handful, she spread it on the right sleeve of her leather jacket. He didn’t say anything as he scooped up some of the gel to spread on the front of her. 

It took all Tormund had not to react to the icy stab of pain working its way though his chest. He concentrated on covering as much of her with the fuel as he could. She didn’t need to tell him her plan. He could guess what it was. Brienne was going to use herself as a human match. Tormund took a step back. 

Brienne spread some of the gel in her hair, slicking back her silver blond strands. “It’s going to be okay,” she said lightly, knowing her words made little difference to him. In his eyes, she as taking too great of a risk just to save his life. But she was the only one who could. 

“I know…” Tormund lied. She knew he was lying. Instead, he removed the tops on the two large barrels and then kicked them over. After she was finished covering herself, he took the small flagon and created a trail from her feet to each support timber of the lodge.

Brienne saw the stiff set of his shoulders. He was in pain and not telling her. “They’re close, aren’t they?” she asked. Tormund only nodded, his hand coming up to cover the mark on his chest. “Okay then, showtime.” She ducked down behind the two remaining large wooden containers. From inner pocket of her jacket she pulled out a clay capsule. Contained within the small vessel was a spark of wildfire. Once it came in contact with the air, it would spark to life, and she would be set aflame in seconds. On impulse, she had palmed a few from Qyburn’s little lab of horrors the last time she was in King’s Landing. She always had one on her in case she was ever in a position like this. 

Tormund took to the center of the platform, careful to avoid the puddle. The last thing he needed was to outrun a fire. Beyond the open doors, another snowstorm moved in heralding the arrival of the White Walkers. He stood his ground when he saw the first shadowy figure appear. They had to make it inside for all this to work. Just a little further but there was a problem. There were only three of them. 

Brienne watched Tormund’s body language for her signal to move. She saw him flinch, but she didn’t move. Not yet. She had to hear them step up on the platform first. There it was not two seconds later, the first heavy footstep hitting old wood. Then another and another. Brienne bolted from her hiding spot, putting herself between them and Tormund. Three frozen men with glowing blue eyes stared at her unflinching at her sudden appearance. “Jaime, now!” she shouted. The old doors creaked closed. They still didn’t flinch. The one in the middle removed his blade made of ice and Brienne could swear she felt the chill of it against her skin. 

Tormund had backed away the moment Brienne took his place. She was on her own, as much as he hated it. He couldn’t withstand the fire the way she could, but still there was a sliver of fear inside him that she wasn’t going to make it. It was at odds with the part of him that knew she would be fine. While they were focused on her, he made it to the door, escaping outside, and then throwing the bolt to lock it. 

The moment Brienne heard the bolt slide home in the lock, she brought the clay capsule up, smashing it against her shoulder. The spark ignited the combustible gel coating her at the same time the ice blade pierced her side, going for her heart. Her dragon blood turned to fire, melting the weapon. Brienne smiled a wicked smile and said, “I’m a dragon, bitch.” Then, she touched the open barrel beside her. Seconds later, the whole building was up in flames. 

 

TBC....


End file.
